


Enjoy The Silence

by Simoriah



Series: Wicked Game Series [3]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Playlist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-05-28 13:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 181,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simoriah/pseuds/Simoriah
Summary: It’s time to move on, or so Orlando’s heart has been trying to tell him since he last saw Zowie. She had made a decision and he had made his, and now it was time to live with it. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was on receiving the news that would allow him to find his way to her once again. Not only was he to discover that Zowie was where he least expected, he was also to be offered the answers to understand exactly to what extent their lives had been changed that afternoon so long ago. Will the doors open for them? Will the judgment of others allow them to live in peace? And will Zowie and Orlando face their pasts so they can, at last, be together as their hearts desire?





	1. Prologue

_“I cannot say whether things will get better if we change;_

_what I can say is they must change if they are to get better.”_

**G.C. Lichtenberg**

**Prologue**

London, February 2007.

 

Elijah loved London. As a city, as a part of human history and a way of living, it had always bewitched him, and the buildings, the sights and idiosyncrasy was something he could submerge himself in with great pleasure every single time.

But it wasn’t tourism what occupied his mind in that very minute. He was in London to make a movie, and just like every other experience in his long résumé, he truly looked forward to everything the script and the production had to offer. It was indeed a very short visit that was about to end, but they would come back to the capital once done in other locations. Yet, there was another experience he had to go through while still in town, and it was the one that pulled at his mixed emotions in opposite directions. He knew he was doing the right thing, but just like every other thing in life, the outcome couldn’t possibly be predicted; especially not when truths hidden for years would be exposed and the hearts of people he held dear were on the line.

Because no matter how professional the demands that had carried him there were, Elijah was in London for a much more personal reason: to close a circle that had been open for far too long, and lead Orlando to the truth about Zowie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1.**

 

_“Hey, man… I’m in London for a couple of days, making a movie. We’re leaving tomorrow, so why don’t we get together and go out for a drink or something? For old times’ sake?”_

Pretending wasn’t that hard; after all, Elijah had a made a living of pretending to be different characters that, most of the times, were in no way relatable to him or his experiences. He enjoyed it, even. Difference was, the people that paid for a ticket to see him acting? They were acutely aware that it was a game, and they were a part of it from the very moment the lights of the theatre went out. They played according to the rules and, hopefully, didn’t leave their seats thinking they had been fooled and cheated. But when the receiving end of his pretence wasn’t as aware and would most likely _not_ enjoy Elijah’s performance, things got a little bit harder. _Much_ harder, in fact.

He was swimming in dangerous waters and he knew it, and as the taxi approached the restaurant, he felt as if those waters were infested with starved sharks, attracted by the scent of his blood. A second later, Elijah frowned at the sudden knotting of his stomach. Orlando _wasn’t_ a shark. Hell, he wasn’t even cruel! He was a rational guy, and Lij put his trust in him to understand exactly what was going on without being too mad at him. _Too_ being the key word there, he mused. There was no question Orlando _would_ be mad at him; Elijah only hoped the other man understood.

But, would he?

Closing his eyes, Elijah drew in a long, deep breath, rubbing his stinging eyes in the process. What guarantee was there that Orlando would see eye to eye with him? That he would sit back, take a deep breath and then look at him saying, _“You know what, Lij? I think you’ve been right all along”_? Elijah shook his head with a soft snort. Being a pretender and playing a game in front of a camera for his and other people’s enjoyment was one thing. Being delusional to the point of trying to convince himself that everything would go just right? That was just desperate.

And yet, he had to do it. He owed it to himself, for being the guardian to a secret long overdue. He owed it to Orlando, for the friendship that had once bonded them so long ago, and he owed it to Zowie.

What would Orlando do when Elijah shared the news he brought? How would he react? There would be anger, that was for sure, but some relief too, Lij hoped. However, there would also be sadness, and how he would deal with it all, he had no idea; he just knew he would have to confront them all, and all the other emotions that came along. What Elijah didn’t know, however, was how he would react to a total and complete lack of response.

How many years had passed since Zowie had disappeared without a trace? Almost three years, was the answer a quick mental calculation gave him. Elijah had been mentally preparing himself to confront a man that still felt for Zowie what he had claimed to feel all those years ago. What would happen if Orlando had moved on? If his feelings for this girl whose life he had transformed so much had vanished over time, remaining, hopefully, as nothing but a warm memory that brought the occasional smile to his face? Or what was even worse, if her sudden disappearance had left him so bitter he didn’t even want to hear her name being mentioned near him?

Elijah wiped his suddenly moist palms on his jeans. That possibility… it had never crossed his mind. Romantically, perhaps even naively, he had chosen to believe that Orlando had remained true and faithful to a girl that had only been his for the briefest time, a time she herself had brought to a sudden and painful end. Who wouldn’t be hurt after that? Wouldn’t it be perfectly fair and understandable if Orlando simply refused to talk about her? And then, the news he was bringing him… An unpleasant shiver tap-danced down Elijah’s spine. He was there to close a circle, to bring an end to what he had imagined had been three years of doubts and pain to Orlando, and not once had he stopped to consider he might be well over Zowie, for good. It wasn’t the first time Elijah questioned the sanity and reason of his decision when coming to London, but it was certainly the first time he considered it from this angle. It was too late to coward back and run away now, though, for the taxi had reached its destination.

Once inside, the restaurant seemed cosy, private, and although located in a central spot in the city, the kind of place where two actors wouldn’t be bothered. Or hopefully, not much, anyway. Surely it was a place where everyone could have a nice and relaxed dinner, but as Elijah walked past a few tables to where a waitress guided him, he could only stare at her bouncing brown pony tail as his palms, sweaty once again, found their way to his jeans. This wasn’t going to work, he realised, unless he calmed down and put things into perspective. And he _had_ to make it work, for the man that waited for him on his feet a few tables away deserved it.

The smile on Orlando’s face was just as Elijah remembered it: bright and honest. It stretched wide over his face, and it never faltered for a second as Lij approached him. What did falter a bit, however, were the until then confident steps of the waitress that led his way, and he imagined the sight of the hottest Hollywood bachelor of the last couple of years smiling widely in her direction did have some sort of effect on her.

Elijah’s resolve was steely, however, and when for a second it wavered and fear gripped his heart with a cold vice grip, he forced himself to conjure a picture of Zowie before his eyes. He was doing it for her. She had always deserved the best and no one had been able to give that to her, not until it was almost too late. He knew he owed it to Orlando to share these news with him, but out of the pair of them, Zowie was the one that ultimately held Elijah’s loyalty.

“Orlando!”

The other actor’s smile grew even wider, and when his arms opened for him in a silent welcome, Elijah allowed himself a tiny little sigh of relief. At the very least, the first door was open: Orlando was happy to have him there. Whatever happened from then on, well… no one could guess it.

“Lij, man… welcome to London!”

The hug was tight and warm, a meeting of two friends that hadn’t seen each other in a long, long time. Friends that, although having once shared every day of their lives and a common goal, had then found their paths drifting apart in the past few years. Still, the moment the hug connected them, those years of separation vanished, and the old connection came back, opening another door Elijah was ever so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you.” Lij said as they pulled apart and Orlando patted his back. Taking the seat his friend offered, he continued. “It’s always nice to be back here. London’s awesome.”

Imitating his friend, Orlando sat down right in front of him and relaxed in his chair, adopting a posture that reminded Elijah of the old times in New Zealand.

“That it is. But enough with the pleasantries. How are you, man? What brought you here, aside from making a movie?”

At those words, Lij’s heart skipped a beat, leaving him breathless for a second. He read Orlando’s face, trying to determine whether his friend had guessed something in his offer or in his stance, or whether his ulterior motives were clearly painted on his face for the world to see. However, after a brief second of panic, Elijah controlled himself once again.

“Well, I’m here for work, mostly.” He explained, making himself more comfortable in his chair and trying not to come across as a person about to throw a big secret on a friend’s unsuspecting lap. Which he was about to do, definitely; he just hoped to conceal it for a while longer. “We’re splitting our time between London and Oxford mostly, so I thought I’d stop by, do a little sightseeing, some souvenir-shopping for the family back home and well, some friend-spotting as well.”

At that, Orlando sketched a sided smile, all the while fiddling with his napkin. As any other actor, Elijah had become a keen observer of people as a way to perfect his craft, and Orlando’s actions didn’t go unnoticed to him. His friend was the kind of person that never quite sat still for more than two minutes in a row; he had learned that the hard way in New Zealand when his boundless energy and hyperactivity had worn them all out at one point or another. But watching him now, seeing him twisting that defenceless napkin, folding it and unfolding it repeatedly until it was a crinkled mess before putting it on his lap just to pick it up again a second later, told Elijah that Orlando was just as nervous as he was.

That simple realisation stunned Elijah for a second, before a myriad of emotions swarmed him. Why was Orlando so nervous? They were, like he himself had said it before, exchanging nothing but pleasantries at the moment. Nothing of what was being said could be potentially polemical. Why then, was he so tense? The answer came quickly to Elijah’s mind: Orlando had to be wondering whether his friend’s visit didn’t have the ulterior motive Lij himself had been thinking of mere moments ago, and the thought that he too could be thinking of Zowie both warmed and froze his heart. Were those thoughts good or bad? Deep in his heart, Elijah wanted to believe Orlando was nervous because he still thought of Zowie the same way he had three years ago but, could he be so sure? Perhaps he was nervous simply because he _didn’t_ want Elijah to bring her up and that was all. Lij bit back a frustrated sigh. No one said it would be easy, but the amount of nerves he was feeling in that instant? They made him so tense he doubted he could eat much.

For the next hour or so, Elijah studied Orlando as they talked about everything and anything. They discussed their careers, their future plans, their families, what they had been up to, and even their common friends from _Rings_ , but all the time, carefully skirting the topic of Zowie. Sometimes it became so obvious the two of them were trying their earnest _not_ to bring her up, that it pained Elijah. And that smile that had coloured Orlando’s face in different moments of the night, and that he had thought so open and honest at first? It had begun to crack, and what had been so beaming and blinding at first, had begun showing signs of strain, of tension… of the effort Orlando put on to appear as careless and worry-free as possible. And every time the conversation neared the topic of _Rings_ , _Kingdom of Heaven_ or their old friends, the crack became wider and wider, exposing more than what Orlando surely wanted Elijah to see.

Was it so bad for Orlando to even think of Zowie? Was it because he missed her, or simply because his feelings for her had changed so drastically? He wasn’t sure, but the way his friend fidgeted uncomfortably, avoided his eyes or swiftly changed the topic whenever Elijah felt it was the right time to bring her up, the latter felt Orlando was still so hurt by her disappearance, that talking about her only brought sad feelings to his heart.

It was only once the dinner was well over with and both friends chatted over a cup of coffee in the now almost empty restaurant, that Elijah deemed the time was right. Orlando was relaxed, the conversation had steered quite away from any controversial topics for some time now, and the tension that had tightened Orlando’s whole posture seemed to have eased considerably. It felt like a low blow taking his friend by surprise right now when he seemed free of worries for the first time in the evening, but something inside Elijah told him that it was now or never. Whether to slowly bring the topic up or simply address it, that was what Lij had a hard time deciding now.

Since skirting the subject had done them no good, he went for the second option instead.

“You know what, Orlando? There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for quite some time now and I haven’t gathered up the courage to do so. We’ve been avoiding it since I walked into this restaurant, but we can’t delay it any longer.” Taking a deep breath, he finally said what he had come to say and that he had been avoiding all night long. “Have you heard from Zowie?”

The effect those simple words had on Orlando was incredible, and the rapid and open play of emotions on his face was mesmerising to Elijah’s eye. The sole mention of Zowie brought a myriad of feelings to Orlando’s suddenly wide brown eyes that proved the younger actor that his friend was, in no way, over her. A man that was over a woman he had last seen three years ago would never show so much shock, bewilderment and recognition at hearing her name spoken out loud. However, a man that was over a woman wouldn’t show so much pain so clearly on his face, and what shocked Elijah the most, even hate and resentment.

Those last emotions sent a thin layer of ice around his heart, and in times like this, he wished he wasn’t _such_ a keen observer. On one hand, he wished he could pledge ignorance and pretend he hadn’t seen all those deep feelings his friend had just showed him. But on the other hand, he knew he had done the right thing. He couldn’t say he had unearthed something buried deep inside Orlando, for his tension all throughout dinner spoke volumes of how fresh and real those feelings were for him, but Elijah still hoped his decision hadn’t been the wrong one. The circle needed to be closed, and he had been too big a part of it to close his eyes and ignore what was going on around him.

The emotions displayed on Orlando’s face were accompanied by a deep pallor that worried Elijah, but that disappeared before he could even shift positions in his seat. Soon, a light blush gave Orlando’s cheeks a touch of colour as his eyes lit up with an anger that showed there for a barely a second; the moment he locked gazes with Elijah, those dark eyes were so guarded and closed, no one could have been able to see a single thing there.

“I haven’t heard from her, no.” Was Orlando’s tight answer. “Last time I did, I was still in Morocco, and she was telling me she had to go. That’s all.”

Elijah could hear the resentment that Orlando was trying so hard to keep from his words filtering through them like poison. No, his friend was _not_ over Zowie, but he was, indeed, mad at her. And hurt. So very hurt! He was trying his earnest to keep a straight face, to not show there what he surely felt at her disappearance, but Elijah couldn’t be fooled. The amount of emotion Orlando had showed seconds ago? It spoke volumes.

“Didn’t she ever… I don’t know, try to contact you all these years?”

At that, something seemed to snap inside Orlando, for his next words were curt and nowhere near as polite as his previous ones had struggled to be.

“Never. But you tell me. You always seemed to know more about her than I did.”

The bitterness in Orlando’s tone could have melted an iceberg, and it made Elijah fidget under the intensity of his friend’s gaze. Yes, Zowie had confided him things Orlando hadn’t known of but that, apparently, he was aware of now. Lij had not only been the shoulder Zowie had cried on many times, they had also shared a friendship he had treasured in the past, and that he constantly berated himself for letting go of when she needed him the most. Which was why he was doing this now: he was honouring that friendship and that trust Zowie had bestowed upon him so long ago.

“She went through a lot and you know that. She loved you all along, and with the things she went through, you can’t blame her for not wanting to scare you away when she finally had you. I’m not excusing her and I’m not blaming you.” He hurried to add when Orlando’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. “But given where she was coming from, the volume of the things she uncovered and that were thrust upon her… I think we can be a little understanding.”

Orlando remained silent for a few seconds before he shrugged his friend’s words off, as if they held no importance to him. But to Elijah, the pretended carelessness didn’t go unnoticed. It was nothing but a mask, and it had been carefully crafted so Lij would think that, after this long, Orlando didn’t give a damn about Zowie anymore.

But Elijah knew better. He had known it all along, and saw it confirmed the moment a tiny little crack appeared in his friend’s resolve, showing a glimpse of insecurity that couldn’t be denied nor ignored. He had done the right thing. Yes, he had stirred feelings he probably should have let to rest and yes, had made Orlando very, very mad at him, but now he had the reassurance in his heart that what he had come to England to do hadn’t been a mistake; not if Orlando still held feelings for Zowie. The circle would be closed, just not there. He couldn’t push anymore.

What remained of the dinner held an underlying tension that none of the men could ignore. But with his mission halfway to completion, Elijah knew that what came ahead would be much easier on him than on Orlando. He had come to terms with the news he was going to share a long time ago, but in honour of the friendship he and Zowie had once had, he would fulfil his goal. Orlando would have to reconcile his feelings with the news he was going to share, but that was something Elijah couldn’t help him with. He could only prompt it, and the morning after, once he left London, he would do it. It might be cowardly of him to share the news once there was a safe distance between him and Orlando, but this was something his friend needed to absorb on his own, without him interfering. He just hoped things turned out the way he expected them to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2.**

 

_“Think’st thou that I who saw the face of God,_

_And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven,_

_Am not tormented with ten thousand hells,_

_In being depriv’d of everlasting bliss?”_

**Christopher Marlowe** , _“The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus”_.  Act I, Scene III.

 

Sleeping, or actually trying to, had been nothing but a waste of time. Over and over had he twisted and turned as hours ticked by with a torturing slowness, achieving nothing except filling his mind with questions, thoughts and recriminations he had thought put to rest a long time ago. When, at 4 AM, Orlando realized there was nothing else to be done but to get up and try to put his mind at ease somehow, he understood that doing that involved the one thing he truly didn’t want to do: think things through.

He didn’t have the mind for it. His brain was a mess of tangled memories and unspoken words that had taunted him for the past three years, too much of a chaos to even try and make sense of it; especially when Orlando _didn’t_ want to do such thing. However, seeing as he wouldn’t get anything done, or wouldn’t get some much needed sleep until he sat down and processed what Elijah had told him, there was no escape.

Saying it, or thinking about it, was a lot easier than doing it, Orlando mused as he stared at the ceiling, the covers pooled around his waist as what little light filtered from outside cast amorphous shadows all around him. It felt as his body refused to follow his mind’s commands; as if, with a conscious entity of its own, it delayed something that would surely cause him nothing but pain. But as body and mind struggled, pulling at him in opposite directions of recognition and ignorance, the mind finally won, as always, and pushed his rogue body to a sitting position. His limbs responded slowly, reluctantly, but once he had kicked the sheets aside and had planted his feet firmly on the carpet, there was nowhere else to go. Tugging his black pyjama bottoms so they stayed in place, Orlando stood up, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

He didn’t turn on the lights; at least, not right away. In the dark, Orlando moved effortlessly, knowing by heart the layout of his apartment. It was a place he knew like the back of his hand, where every piece of furniture was located at his disposal, and where he had lived for the past two years; Los Angeles wasn’t a place that particularly appealed to him anymore.

Heavy feet carried Orlando to the kitchen, and only there did he turn the overhead light. So far, he had managed to keep the brunt of his thoughts at bay, and focusing solely on the mechanic movements of preparing himself a cup of tea, he succeeded on keeping them under control for a while longer. While Orlando longed for something stronger, he questioned the sanity of it, choosing tea instead. The idea of having a beer briefly crossed his mind, but then decided against it; he was about to open a chest he had kept locked for a long, long time, and adding alcohol to the mix might prove to be, well… incredibly stupid. Not just that; Orlando wanted to keep a clear head on his shoulders, hoping to come to the best decision given the circumstances he was facing. And as he poured hot water into a mug, he realised the circumstances were hardly easy as it was.

Mug in hand, Orlando treaded with slow and heavy steps back into the living room, a sombre cloud descending upon him with every step he took. He didn’t want to do this. God knew the last thing in his mind was to even think about her, but the topic had been laid out in the open, unavoidably so.

Setting his mug on the coffee table, Orlando then collapsed unceremoniously on the big, comfy couch, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he propped his feet up on the table. His heart thudded in his chest, and he cursed himself for it. Why did he react as if she were more than a mere mention, as if she were a presence materialising right before him in all reality? Bad thing was, Orlando could conjure her with such clarity, that for a second he questioned what he had come to feel about her. Nevertheless, it was only for a second, for what Orlando now felt for Zowie was something no mention of her could ever change.

Orlando felt anger. Resentment. He had even felt hatred at one point, but that extreme emotion had eventually faded out. There were times, however, times such as these, when he wondered if another emotion wasn’t still alive someplace in his heart, but the thought was short-lived; his love for Zowie had died the minute he realised why she had left.

Said realisation had hit him like a slap on the face. Zowie had claimed to love him, but what had she done the minute things got ugly? She left. She left Morocco, and his life, without a trace. She had claimed to do such thing in his benefit, but after all those years, Orlando had a hard time believing that. She had said goodbye to him over a voice mail in his phone. A voice mail! And one that was too brief and too void of emotion at that to try and understand her. It had torn Orlando’s heart to pieces and had shattered his world, and although he had kept it in his phone for months, with time, he had got over it and tried his earnest to forget every word of it.

However, and no matter how hard he tried, Orlando still remembered them. Not once, in the past three years, had he been able to put that voice mail behind, and it still haunted him in the most unexpected moments. Orlando sighed, his eyes still closed, as if keeping them that way could shield him from the memories that suddenly swarmed him with a vengeance. No, no, no! Suddenly angry, he punched the sofa beneath him, as if it was to blame for the debacle that had taken place three years ago.

Damn Elijah for bringing this whole thing up! Why on Earth had he done that? Was this what he had come for all along? They had barely seen each other in all that time; in fact, Orlando couldn’t remember seeing his former cast mate after that premiere in Los Angeles, the one that had led his path to cross Zowie’s once again. If Elijah hadn’t seen Zowie since – and Orlando sincerely didn’t know what to expect anymore – what made him think he could get involved in something he hadn’t been a part of from the very beginning? Yes, Lij had helped Zowie in New Zealand, and the bitter taste that suddenly filled Orlando’s mouth at the thought was hard to ignore, but did that give him any prerogative to intrude in someone else’s business this way? No! The damn bastard had stuck his nose in something that was way above him, and that he had no idea of whatsoever.

Because Zowie’s departure? It had torn Orlando’s heart to pieces. Her message, the way she had left, what had happened before… guilt had taken a residence in his heart back then and it had taken long months, years even, until Orlando managed to get rid of it. There were more things he was to blame for than he would dare to revisit under normal circumstances, and these weren’t. But now those events hit him, and not even the pretended shield his closed eyes made succeeded at keeping him safe from them.

_The night you met, it was a magic start_  
_All the connections were made in your heart_  
_Following you everywhere, you could feel her eyes_  
_A glimpse of somebody takes you by surprise_

Before Morocco, Orlando hadn’t known the true extent of the influence he held over Zowie. It wasn’t until that one night in his house, when she had bared her heart and soul to him, that he had finally begun to comprehend how big a mark he had left in her life. That first time, as disastrous as it had been, had led Zowie down a path of self-destruction, and that was something Orlando wasn’t prone to forgetting any time soon; the guilt he felt at that would probably remain in his heart forever.

She had needed him so much, she had flown halfway around the world to be with him. Yet, instead of finding him, she had come across a sick bastard that had used her as the punching bag for his very own personal issues. Nevertheless, Zowie had believed in Orlando so much, that once again she had been willing to put her fate in his hands. And she had loved him. Enough to put up with a girlfriend that had tried to shatter her to pieces and then survive. Enough to give him the time and space he needed, and the reassurance he had craved so badly at the time.

But then, when everything exploded, Zowie gave in, allowing the producers to kick her out and stopping Orlando from doing anything about it, for which he blamed her entirely. _She_ didn’t want to be with him. _She_ didn’t want fight for the love they had so recently discovered, and after suffering to be by his side for so long, she had simply caved in, taking a step aside and letting things carry on without her. How could she do that? That was something Orlando could never forget, because it was the one thing that had led him to believe that, in all honesty, Zowie had never loved him as much as she claimed, and that was the thought that had filled him with anger the moment it entered his mind and that had led him ever since.

_Another place and day, now where's she gone?_  
_You can't forget her face or things you left undone_  
_Re-run memories from the start, the time has flown_  
_All the time you've been apart and she's still in your heart_

Because even though he had got involved with other girls, none of them had even come close to her in any way, and it both pained and angered him at the same time. Just thinking that he had pined for so long for a woman that had chosen to leave him, was what finally turned the love he had once felt for her into anger and, ultimately, into hatred. Love turned to hatred was something Orlando wished to no one, but with time, he had realised that feeling that way for Zowie meant giving her an importance she didn’t have in his life. Why should she be so important to him, when he obviously wasn’t to her? Indifference was the best way to deal with those feelings, and he had succeeded for a long time.

_Until Elijah came along._

_Try as you might the recollections stay_

_Like a photographic memory of each day_

_You can feel her by your side in an empty room_

_And words like forever you spoke too soon_

Elijah’s appearance meant that so many things Orlando had kept under a tight control, sprang to life once again. Like some 21st century male Pandora, Elijah had carelessly unlocked that dark chest Orlando had kept hidden in his heart for years, unleashing those intense and infuriating feelings in him. What did Lij have to win by bringing her up? Mentioning Zowie was like suddenly having her there, as if she had materialised out of nowhere to haunt him with memories that now opened up old wounds in his heart he had thought long since healed.

Out of the many memories his Moroccan experience with Zowie had left him, the first one to occupy Orlando’s mind was the confusion and desolation he had felt the day she disappeared. Up to this day, Orlando had no idea how he had got through work that day with his mind elsewhere, a pissed off director, angry producers and then, to top it all, a furious Geoff that had shot daggers at him every time their gazes met. Add the constant pressure and curiosity of the paparazzi camped outside, and it was only natural that, later that day, Orlando had stared at the black expanse of the starry night sky from his window, trying to comprehend what on Earth had happened. His life had been turned upside down, and he felt the love he had just discovered had been snapped from his fingers an instant too soon. Back then, he had had the feeling that the story wasn’t over, that like in the movies he made, there had to be a sequel, a continuation to his and Zowie’s story that would right all the wrongs that had plagued their story together.

But not anymore. Just thinking how he had spent months wallowing in self-pity and trying to find her angered him more than Elijah’s daring intervention had. He still couldn’t understand what his friend had to win with this, but he would sure find out sooner or later. Orlando didn’t want to delve in the Zowie issue deeper, but if morning came and he still felt like it, he would contact his friend and ask him up front what on Earth was wrong with him.

But first, Orlando had to determine exactly what he felt about this whole thing, and the thought made him more than a little wary. Why was he so affected by the sole mention of Zowie? Hadn’t all the pain he had gone through because of her been enough to desensitise him to anything Zowie related?

Orlando clung to the sorrow and depression he had felt, to the memory of how her disappearance had tinted every moment of his life to keep things into perspective. Zowie had messed with his mind, with his life, even with his job experiences ever since. Wasn’t that enough to justify everything he now felt for her? The love was long gone, that was for sure. The hatred that had also once lit his heart with an overpowering fire too had disappeared. What remained, then?

The soreness in his heart, the consequence of the intense pain he had felt and that now forbade him from feeling anything remotely good towards Zowie. Orlando didn’t want revenge. Neither did he want to cause her pain, but he couldn’t simply ignore everything she had put him through. The disappointment would always be there no matter what, and since he had come to the conclusion that hating Zowie only gave her an importance she didn’t deserve, Orlando realised that, although angered by her sudden reappearance in his life, he was over her. For good. She wasn’t going to be the centre of his life anymore, since he had obviously _not_ been the centre of hers as she had claimed.

Still, he would most likely contact Elijah in the morning, if only to inform him of the conclusion he had just come to and to let him know that, from now on, he would no longer welcome intrusions to his private life. He already had enough from the press to want it from a person he had considered a friend so long ago.

Having made up his mind and satisfied with the conclusions he had come to, for they fit in the scheme of things the way he wanted them safely keeping the status quo of his life, Orlando moved from the position he had been in since coming into the living room. His neck was sore and his back complained when he moved, but none of that was such a giveaway as to how long he had spent sitting there in the darkness lost in his musings, as the cold tea that touched his lips the moment he took the mug to them.

Wincing at the unpleasant feeling, Orlando rested the mug back on the coffee table and, standing up, stretched his arms high over his head. Then, still in the dark, he padded back into the kitchen, dumping the now useless tea and rinsing the mug before making his silent way back to the bedroom. His heart was by no means light, but his mind had it deceived that they had worked things out, and that they had done the right thing. Zowie was out of his life, Orlando mused as he slipped under the covers and closed his eyes. She was out for good, and the best thing he could do was carry on living his life as if this intrusion from Elijah had never happened. After all, none of that would bring her back, and even if it did, Orlando wouldn’t be able to forget everything she had put him through. It was a comforting thought, taking refuge in his anger, he thought as he finally felt sleep clinging to him. It kept the most vulnerable parts of him safe.

~*~

When Orlando woke up the morning after, he felt more light-hearted than he had felt in a long, long time. With his feelings on track, whatever came ahead would be easier. It felt unreal that, just hours ago, when cloaked in the darkness of the London night, he had felt so lost and full of conflicting emotions. Now, as the sun of the late morning filtered all through his home, Orlando felt as if nothing wrong could happen. He prepared himself a healthy breakfast that he ate in the kitchen island, the TV providing a comforting amount of background noise as he stared at the comings and goings of the people in the streets below.

When he finally picked up his phone, it was much later. He had half a mind of doing what he had promised himself the night before and call Elijah, but something inside him told him not to; he was in far too good a mood to ruin it by revisiting some of the darker feelings he had felt the night before. Later, when he felt like it, he would.

The phone, however, made the decision for him. When clicking a button to check his messages, he realised there was only one, and from the person he last imagined. Not his agent or anyone related to his career, that usually contacted him every day, and not even his family, that stayed in touch with him regularly. It was Elijah, and realisation hit him like a slap on the face. What on Earth did he want? Wasn’t he done tormenting him? Orlando scoffed. It was a good thing his moment of introspection in the darkness had put things into perspective; otherwise, the sudden quickening of his heartbeat at the sight of his friend’s name would have lasted longer, bringing on emotions he had no business feeling.

With that in mind, Orlando opened the unread message, already conjuring a fitting answer in his mind.

 _“Thanks for dinner last night. Had a great time catching up. Sorry if I upset you.”_ Read the first half of the text, and it made Orlando smirk. He better be! The second half, however, uncovered as he scrolled down, robbed him of his satisfied grin. _“Promised myself I wouldn’t meddle any further, but… 195 Plaza Drive, Prescott, AZ. You’ll find Zowie there.”_

 

Lyrics: _“Still In Your Heart”_ , **The Power Station.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had to delete the chapters because the order was all wrong (blame it on the prologue) but it should be fine now. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3.**

 

_“Okay, go off and wander_

_I’m guilty just the same_

_Sometimes you’re needed badly_

_So please come back again”_

_**Duran Duran – Hold Back The Rain** _

 

_“195 Plaza Drive, Prescott, AZ. You’ll find Zowie there.”_

The words seemed to jump off the screen of his phone to slap Orlando in the face with a vengeance. The satisfied smirk that had played on his lips upon reading Elijah’s apology vanished, replaced by an expression of utter shock. His heart, which had stopped beating the moment the meaning of the message reached his brain, resumed its usual job, only that twice at its normal speed now, and it wasn’t until the phone almost slipped from his palm that Orlando realised how sweaty it was. In fact, a cold sweat seemed to have bathed him in a matter of instants.

He took a deep breath, trying to settle his thumping heart and his rambling thoughts. He knew what each of those words meant on its own, but he couldn’t quite comprehend what they were trying to tell him as a whole, so questions swarmed his mind.

He knew enough of the United States’ geography to know exactly what AZ stood for. Arizona. It meant Arizona. But… why? Was Zowie in Arizona? What on Earth was she doing there?

Realisation hit him like a tidal wave. Zowie was in America, and the fact was as glaring as the brightest of suns. Had that been her first destination upon leaving Morocco? Why America then, and not New Zealand? And why America, where her ex-boyfriend had been deported to? She couldn’t be back with Matt, could she? Fear gripped Orlando’s heart at the thought. No, she couldn’t be that stupid! Or could she? Zowie had claimed not to feel a single thing for Matt that night in Morocco, only terror whenever he was around. But then again, she had claimed so many things, that Orlando didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Then, as the bitter thoughts of Zowie’s possible lies tortured him, another fact began to rear its ugly head in his already troubled heart. He had got this message from Elijah. Elijah, the same guy who had brought Zowie up the night before. Putting two and two together was painfully easy, and the anger that surged inside Orlando almost made him cry out. Elijah knew! He knew where Zowie was, he knew _how_ she was… had probably known it all along and Orlando wasn’t sure what fuelled his fury the most: that Lij had hidden this all this time, or that Zowie had chosen him instead of Orlando to trust in. Who was he to her, after all? Nothing but a guy who had declared his love for her one night three years ago, when he had been trusting and stupid enough to do so. Fucking idiot!

Why had Elijah never told him about this before? Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a long, long time, but he had always known how to reach him! Proof of that was that, the moment Elijah felt like sharing this piece of news with him, Orlando was only a phone call away. But why now? Why now, after three long years, had Elijah finally decided it was the right time for Orlando to know where Zowie was? Did she need him? The thought poked at the embers of his anger. Well, he didn’t need _her_ now! _She_ had left him, not the other way around. Why had Elijah intervened, because she was once again having problems with her drug addiction? Too bad for her, Orlando thought. He had already done everything he could to assist her, and she had thrown all that away the moment she left Morocco without a trace. If Zowie needed his help, she would have to make do without it, for Orlando wasn’t going to fall for the same trap twice.

And yet, despite his bravado, a tiny sting of guilt stabbed at this heart. What if Zowie _truly_ needed him? If she was having trouble with drugs again, it could be very serious, and she would need all the help she could get. Once, he had thought his love would help her heal; obviously, he had been wrong. But she was somewhere and now he knew where. She was alive, and that was more than he had dared to hope for months and months.

Nevertheless, the blazing fire of his fury and wounded pride destroyed the compassionate thoughts. Orlando had been left behind. No one had bothered to contact him for three long years. Who cared if Zowie was alive and if she had problems? They weren’t his anymore; they were solely, purely, her own. And for once and for all, she had to learn how to deal with them.

However, there was someone else who needed to learn with the consequences of his actions, and that was the sneaky bastard who had tested the waters the night before just to drop the bomb when he was much too far away to feel the effects of its explosion. Punching the buttons angrily, Orlando then took the phone to his ear, already savouring the kind of things he would say to Elijah. Yet, when a voice told him that it was impossible to establish a connection or some other similar piece of crap, Orlando cursed under his breath and glared at the useless piece of technology in his hand. For God’s sake, could _one_ thing work for him today? Or was the entire world against him? But as furious and stubborn as he was, Orlando tried once again, and yet a third time before surrendering with a loud curse and throwing the phone on the table. It skidded over the dark wood, but thankfully stopped short of the edge, which would have led it to its doom. Too bad, Orlando mused. He certainly felt like breaking stuff right now.

Running his hands through his hair, Orlando looked outside the window. Why this? Why now? And what was he going to do about it? Why suddenly, all these feelings he had considered long gone surfaced so bluntly they almost choked him? All of a sudden, the conclusion he had come to the night before while sitting in the dark seemed as weak as a snowflake in the Sahara desert. Orlando rubbed his face, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He couldn’t be questioning himself! So what if this girl he had pined for for such a long time suddenly reappeared in his life? What Orlando had gone through couldn’t be erased. The pain he had gone through couldn’t be forgotten, and neither could the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to her. Knowing she was alive and living some place in America wasn’t a match for three years of emptiness and absence.

Uncovering his face, Orlando let out a loud breath. He couldn’t stay there anymore. He had to leave. He had no idea where he would go or what he would do, but he couldn’t stay in that confined space alone with his thoughts anymore or he would break.

Practically running out, Orlando picked his keys and those of the car on the way out, slamming the door closed behind him. He hated feeling this way, hated feeling that he cared about someone who had obviously _not_ given a damn about him, so he needed to clear his head, for he was terrified of whatever feelings would come to life if he didn’t.

~*~

During the next couple of days, Orlando went through the motions. He didn’t actually _live_ ; he simply acted based on impulse. When being enclosed between the four walls of his flat became smothering and unbearable, Orlando went out. When being outside, exposed and vulnerable became too much, he scurried back home, to the safety of those four walls he had despised so much just hours before. He went on for hours without touching any food, and even when his stomach growled, complaining loudly for the lack of nourishment, he couldn’t bring himself to eat more than a few bites of whatever he had whipped up with the contents of his fridge. A haze surrounded him; a haze where his every thought, whether in waking hours or sleeping time, was devoted to one person only. The one whose sudden appearance had turned his otherwise tidy world upside down to a critical point.

Zowie.

Orlando had tried every distracting tactic in the book. All his attempts, however, had proved to be futile. Now, sitting in front of the TV he hadn’t turned on since reading that message over forty-eight hours ago, he tried to understand why he couldn’t simply shake off the dark feelings that clung to him so tightly. Zowie had left him, Elijah had lied to him, and all those dark times he had gone through in the past three years? They could have been easily avoided with a phone call or, as evidence proved it, with a simple text message. No one had to face Orlando or talk to him if they didn’t feel like it; punching a few letters on a cell phone would have worked fine.

With his hands on his knees, Orlando rubbed his face tiredly before his fingers raked through his messy hair. Why on Earth did he feel like this? Why did he feel so torn when he should be feeling angry? Why suddenly finding out that Elijah had known all along of Zowie’s whereabouts was ripping him apart inside to a point where his entire world had been turned upside down?

Because he cared. Because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, to ignore it or skirt the subject, he still cared. Why else would he be so edgy? Knowing that, acknowledging it, was more confusing than all the turmoil he had experienced that day. Because Orlando didn’t want to feel that way. He wanted to be angry and mad and furious, not worried and concerned as he was.

She had _left_ him, for God’s sake! Zowie had walked away without a single look back when he needed her the most. She had left him open and raw, vulnerable in ways Orlando hadn’t thought possible. He couldn’t remember feeling for any other person the way he had felt for Zowie in Morocco, and just when he was beginning to understand his emotions, to even begin to fathom the twists and turns that had made Zowie’s life since he had met her, she had walked away. She had claimed it was all in his benefit, but he knew better.

Or did he?

Orlando shook his head. Those thoughts had been the safety net he had been falling back on for three years, and he wasn’t going to change them now. He wouldn’t forget everything he had gone through just because Elijah had deigned to share some information with him.

And yet, the feelings were there. They were _still_ there, for they had never gone away. The moment Zowie was mentioned, they came back with a vengeance, showing Orlando that he wasn’t as over her as he had liked to believe.

_“Oh, for fuck’s sake… what do I feel for her?”_

The question bounced inside his skull, taunting him. There was no way Orlando was over Zowie. Absolutely _no_ way. The way he was feeling right now, the turmoil that tortured his heart and soul? They were enough proof that no matter how much he tried to fool himself, it just didn’t work. The word _love_ didn’t even cross his mind, and Orlando paid close attention to it remaining that way. Admitting he still cared about Zowie was one thing, but owning up to any other stronger feelings? Those would remain closeted for as long as he could. Until he decided what to do about them.

Orlando didn’t know what it was that made him stand up, but he simply followed his feet, just like he had been doing since reading the text Elijah had sent him. When they took him into his bedroom and to the closet, however, he couldn’t pretend anymore. These weren’t his feet doing the thinking; it was his mind, but above all his heart, putting itself in charge of his decisions. Opening the closet door, Orlando knelt down, knowing exactly where to look. He wasn’t the kind of person to hoard knickknacks that reminded him of this and that, but over the years, he had collected a few items he refused to throw away. Items that, as soon as he moved to this apartment, had found a safe place inside the bottom drawer, along with some of his clothes.

When he pulled the large book out, the weight of it matched the one on his shoulders. He struggled against himself, a part of him wanting to open it and lose himself in its contents, the other refusing to, knowing it would only open wounds that had never really stopped bleeding.

Orlando shrugged. Why not follow the path of self-pity a little bit more?

Zowie’s scrapbook was a moment in his life, but also hers. It wasn’t until he got the chance to see what she had put there that he had truly understood what he meant for her, and even then, it had been too late. He was in a plane heading back to England, and she was, supposedly, going to start her university degree; what else could he possibly do? Now he could see it through different eyes, and the sheer power of the love and devotion she had put into every piece that coloured its many pages astounded him. Zowie had loved him. Where had it all gone wrong?

She had been so innocent back then, he mused looking at their first pictures together. So young, so fresh, so full of energy and light… such lust for life! So different to the Zowie he had met years later in Los Angeles. That Zowie had been dark, jaded, full of fear and regrets, and still she had wanted to come out. Just to think that, regardless of how strongly she denied it, he had a part in that change filled his heart with sorrow.

When he came across those pictures she had taken and that he hadn’t known off until he was well on his way to England, confusing emotions took over Orlando. On one hand, he couldn’t help but think of the danger she had put herself into when doing that. She hadn’t been in her best moment and she had said so herself, so anything could have happened.

But then, another emotion, a more primitive one, coiled inside Orlando. His gaze greedily took in the exposed skin, the curves, the softness… all that he had sampled in Morocco and that, up to this day, still haunted him. He still remembered the feel of her skin under his palms, still remembered Zowie’s sighs and moans of delight as she took him inside her, how perfect it had felt to be one with her. But he also remembered how that smooth flesh had been marred for life, another proof of what Zowie had gone through.

With a heavy sigh, Orlando closed the scrapbook; too much turmoil had been unleashed inside him to look at it any longer. But then, as he was about to put it back in its place, he found the _mala_ beads Zowie had given him for his 27 th birthday in Spain. He had been mad at her that day, but upon seeing her gift and knowing it was meant to give him peace and clarity of mind, two things he needed so much back then, the storm unleashing inside him roared with fierce thunder. Why had he never thrown those things away, no matter how mad he was at her? And why had he kept the coin she had given him as a parting gift with the charms he wore around his neck? Because he cared. Because, deep down inside, Orlando had always hoped to see Zowie again. Now the question was simple, although its answer might prove to be exactly its opposite.

Should he go to her or not?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4.**

 

_“No farewell could be the last one_

_If you long to meet again.”_

**_Avantasia – Farewell_ **

 

The moment she opened the door and a wave of warm conditioned air enveloped her, Zowie sighed in contentment. Oh, yes… this was exactly what she needed! After a long day out in the sunny, yet obviously cold Arizona winter, the warmth was a very much welcomed relief. The door, however, barely had any time to close behind her before it swung open once again, this time giving way to the bustle of a group of ten teenagers, and just like the warmth that had surrounded her merely seconds ago, their excited comments about the outing they had just shared made Zowie feel just as good. Glancing at them over her shoulder, she grinned. She understood those kids, knew where they came from and what had led them there in the first place. She felt comfortable amongst them, but what was more important, they felt comfortable around her and consequently, the feedback and the benefits were mutual.

 _A Sober Way Home_ had become Zowie’s home almost three years ago, and the moment she set foot there, her entire life changed. She had had the drive before, but had lacked the direction. Or rather, the direction had always been there; it just had been the wrong one all along.

“Zowie!” A light voice called, and Zowie turned on her heels.

“Hey, Sasha.” She answered as the young girl approached her.

Looking at her, Zowie sometimes felt she was looking in a mirror. Blonde-haired and green-eyed, Sasha looked nothing like her, but some of the experiences the girl had gone through? Zowie could totally relate to. With her parents going through a rough divorce and a boy who had mercilessly broken her heart, Zowie looked at Sasha and felt she could understand her more than the girl could even imagine.

“You did great today.”

Blushing at the compliment, the pretty girl beamed at Zowie.

“Thanks.” She said, and for a moment, Sasha looked as if she really struggled to say something. Waiting patiently, Zowie was finally rewarded when the teenager blurted out. “You know what I told you about the other day? What I talked to the counsellor about how much I hate how my mum and my dad use me in their fights all the time?” Zowie nodded. “Well, my mum’s coming over next Saturday, so I’m going to tell her all about it. Every single thing.”

Zowie’s own smile widened.

“That’s great!”

“I know, isn’t it?” Sasha said and almost bounced on her feet. “Madison promised me she would be there for me if I wanted to, but I want to do this on my own. I mean, I know I have to open up to people and I think it’s great that she wants to help, but I think this whole thing will go better if I do it on my own. I know my mum will certainly take it better if no one’s there to hear what I have to say. I can’t see why, though.” Sasha added with a shrug. “I mean, _everyone_ knows my dad cheated on her with a girl not much older than me. How could have someone _here_ listening to what I have to say make everything even worse?”

When Zowie nodded in understanding, it was one the young girl couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Her own family had kept secrets for far too long, and when it all exploded, it had taken her down with it, just like it had happened to Sasha. Zowie, however, had to admit that, although as hard as it had been to find out her dad had a secret life, finding out that he had been cheating on her mum with a girl barely six years older than his own daughter seemed like a hellish prospect.

“I’m glad you’re doing this.” She said. “Finally facing what’s deep inside your heart is anything but easy, and you have come to this after such a short time that I’m proud of you.”

And Zowie meant every word. God knew that, had she had the courage this young girl showed, this eagerness to face her issues, things would have never got so out of hand for her. But she hadn’t, and there was no use crying over spilt milk now. Three years spent in a rehabilitation facility had helped Zowie put things into perspective. She had worked many things out during those years, and that her achievements could help these kids in any way made her so, so proud!

She wasn’t a counsellor by any means, but having been discharged six months after arriving, Zowie had decided to stay in Prescott and, hopefully, help in the centre so she could do for others what those people had done for her. As an assistant for outdoors and sporting activities, she had managed to mix both her desire and what should have been her future, should have she attended university as expected. Each kid that succeeded reinforced her own determination to stay clean. Three years and counting so far, Zowie planned to make that count go on for a long, long time.

At Zowie’s reassurance, Sasha’s beaming smile threatened to split her pretty face in two. God, was Zowie relieved she had got help soon! Whenever she thought of another helpless, lost girl falling into the kind of traps she had fallen years ago, Zowie shivered with dread. Hopefully, Sasha would pick up the pieces and carry on with her life in a better, wiser way and by the time she was eighteen, her life would be back on track. Unlike Zowie’s, which had derailed exactly around that same time, only to take a normal course again much later.

“Madison helped a lot.” Sasha explained referring to her counsellor, twirling a long strand of blonde hair in her index finger, her green eyes sparkling brightly when she looked up at Zowie. “But you did too. When you told me about your own family and how never daring to bring some subjects up made you go through so much pain, it got me thinking, you know? You said you had only done one brave thing in your life, and it was the one that ultimately led you to getting better. Well, I want to have my own brave thing, because I too want to get better. I don’t want to feel this huge ball of anger inside me anymore, you know?”

Was that how counsellors and guides felt whenever one of their patients began treading down the path of recovery? At Sasha’s words, Zowie felt a wave of pride that touched her heart. She knew that her part in the recovery of these kids was tiny, but it was a part nonetheless, and every time something she did, no matter how small, helped them face their issues, she felt some of the pain she had carried for years vanish from her shoulders. Just talking to them, _listening_ to them, meant the world to these kids. That someone who had gone through the same they had could listen to them and understand them made them feel they could do it too. And as the activities Zowie helped put together strengthened their confidence in themselves and others, it made her feel that this path she had taken herself was the right one.

“Thanks, Sasha. I… that’s what I’m here for, you know? If you want me to be there when you talk to your mom, you know where to find me.”

Sasha grinned.

“I know. But I think I can do this on my own. You know me… I’m stubborn, and I won’t let this thing beat me. I might have let pills take control of me for a while, but I want to get out. I really, really do.”

“And that’s all you need, believe me.” With a wide smile on her lips, Zowie took the girl in her arms for a tight hug. Her comments had made her day, and she clung to that feeling as they parted ways and she walked past the front desk, stopping on her tracks when the new receptionist called her name.

“Zowie?”

Turning on her heels, Zowie gave her a questioning look.

“Yes?”

“You have a visitor waiting for you in your office. He’s been there for about half an hour now.”

At those words, Zowie felt a fluttering in her chest. Not many people visited her here; she had very few friends in Prescott and they all worked in the centre, which meant they couldn’t be actually labelled as _visitors_. There was only one person she could think of, and with a grin tickling her lips, she thanked the young receptionist she had barely seen twice before and took off towards her office.

Well, calling it office _was_ a bit pretentious, Zowie mused as her grin widened. She had been given a space to work that she was sure no one else wanted because it was the tiniest room in the whole facility, but hey, she loved it. It was a symbol of her new life, and it had a special place in her heart. She kept it tidy and with very little adornments other than some pictures she had gathered over the years; pictures of people she loved and held dear.

As for the visitor the receptionist had mentioned, there was only one person who could drop by just like that. Her mum came to visit as often as she could, but flying from New Zealand could hardly be described as _dropping by_. For Elijah, however, it meant a couple of hours flying from Los Angeles. He loved the atmosphere of calmness a small town like Prescott offered, so she considered him her on-and-off roommate of sorts. There must have been a change of plans, though, for the last time she had talked to him about a week ago he was still in England, making a new movie. She shrugged. She didn’t mind, for seeing him always brought a smile to her face. Besides, Zowie had the secret aspiration that he might have some news to share about a certain man they both knew, and that had never abandoned her heart. Zowie might not have seen Orlando in three years, but her feelings for him had never waned.

When her door came into sight, Zowie sprinted towards it, wanting to waste not a single minute. Her heart pounded with excitement and anticipation, and she could barely wait. She wanted to see Elijah for he had been a very important part of her life in the past years, but she also craved any news about Orlando. When she walked away from him, she had done it feeling her love was bad for him, and that all she did was bring him more and more trouble. She had too, however, done it for herself. It was Orlando himself who once told her she had to be strong for herself, not for others. When that finally made sense, the path she had to take became clear to Zowie. And so very painful, too.

She had barely opened the door when she began to talk.

“Lij! I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea-“

Looking inside her office, Zowie stopped dead on her tracks. The tall, lean form that stood by her small desk, a framed picture in hand, was not Elijah’s. However, it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar either. It was one she knew as well as her own, and that her heart, body and soul still cried out for.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5.**

_“I'd never known that dying embers  
Would hurt more than the blazing fire we'd lit”_

**_Edguy – Thorn Without A Rose_ ** ****__  
  


Getting in this easily hadn’t been something Orlando had expected or even imagined. In fact, when boarding the plane in Heathrow, he hadn’t even _dared_ to think of what might lie beyond 195 Plaza Drive in Prescott, Arizona. Countless options had crossed his mind, but most of them were far too unsettling to dwell on them.

Making his mind up to visit Zowie hadn’t been easy, for it all steamed from one simple admission: that Orlando still cared for her. Coming to that conclusion, opening his heart to it, had almost torn him apart. He didn’t want to care for her, didn’t want to worry about her either, but the moment he was given the means to see her again, the idea was planted in his brain and he couldn’t let it go. With the _mala_ beads and the scrapbook in his hands, he had made up his mind. With his world upside down, the only way to make it right was to go and see with his own eyes where Zowie was, but above all, to be right there before her when she explained why she had left him so abruptly three years ago.

That was all he would do, Orlando had told himself. He would confront Zowie, and then he would walk away. If she could, then so did he.

However, he hadn’t counted on the effect that arriving to that place would have on him.

The hour-long drive north from Phoenix to Prescott had been a painteresque one, even in winter. Orlando, however, had been much too tense to truly enjoy it. Even the drive through Prescott, a quaint little town with a background of mountains that reminded him of those he had seen in American movies countless times, hadn’t been exactly as pleasant as it could have been. The moment he arrived to his destination and was welcomed with a sign that read _“A Sober Way Home – Drugs and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center”_ , Orlando had sat in the rented car for a long while, staring at it as if it might offer some of the information he so badly needed.

A rehab facility did make lots of sense, didn’t it? Zowie had indeed gone through an addiction that had affected her badly, even if by the time she left Morocco she had claimed to feel much better about it. Hadn’t she turned down Matt’s offer, after all, despite the temptation it represented?

The thought brought a bitterness to Orlando’s mouth he found hard to get rid of. Thinking of Matt’s offer meant thinking of that one night Orlando and Zowie had shared in Ouarzazate, in a house that had felt much too big and laden with memories after she left. Thinking of her telling him that he was the only reason why she hadn’t accepted the heroin? It inevitably led to the passion they had shared, the love they had professed… and how cruelly she had left him the day after. Thinking of that only meant drowning in the anger and self-pity he had worked so hard to avoid since boarding the plane in London.

Which was precisely why Orlando needed to remain cool and calm. He would collect the answers he needed and then he would walk away, just like Zowie had. It wasn’t revenge what he was after, but the part of him that still bled after so long did wish to cause Zowie if only an ounce of the pain she had caused him.

If she still cared about him at all, of course.

But the thought was too unsettling, and Orlando refused to dwell on it any longer, for it played havoc with his plans.

Once he had gathered the courage to enter the facilities spread before him in a large, one-floor layout, Orlando was surprised at how easily he managed to get in. The girl at the front desk, who had been talking over the phone the minute he walked in and that seemed more than a little overwhelmed by her job, signalling her inexperience at it, had looked shocked the moment she saw his face, just to smile at him later on and direct him to the office where he now stood.

An office? cried a voice inside him. Nothing made sense. Orlando had expected a waiting room for family and friends, perhaps even her own room, but this? It confused him even more. He had wondered if someone would come and talk to him prior to seeing Zowie, but the moment his confusion waned enough for him to take a good look around, what he saw there answered some of his questions. It was a tiny room kept in order, with the exception of a few sheets of papers on the desk and a football ball on the corner that sent a pang of an unknown emotion to his heart. However, it was the framed pictures he found on the black desk what attracted his attention the most.

There weren’t many, but looking at them was like taking a very brief glimpse into the past three years in the life of Zowie Hart, the girl that had turned his life upside down the moment she walked into that training room in Wellington in what seemed ages ago. There were two pictures of her surrounded by groups of ten or fifteen teenagers and an older man, both taken on what he imagined were the lands surrounding Prescott on a much warmer day than the one he had chosen to pay his first visit. Zowie was barely visible in both pictures, and Orlando surprised himself longing for a better look. Why was she there with those kids? What did she have to do with them? And who was the man with her in both pictures? What little he could see of her, for she stood in the back in both pictures and wore sunglasses and a cap, Zowie looked well, and a bit of the tension he felt inside eased away. What had he expected, he wondered; for Zowie to look like she had in Los Angeles? For her to be completely lost in her addiction once again? He didn’t know, but the relief inside him couldn’t be concealed.

Another frame held a picture of two people who had to be Zowie’s mum and brother. Orlando had vague memories of them. He hadn’t interacted much with Noemie and couldn’t tell how much she had changed in the past eight years, but one look at Jared told him the picture was new. It was taken in a balcony with the mountain landscape he had seen behind, which indicated it was fairly recent, and the boy he had once known, that had hit the beaches with them for a bit of surfing, was now a grown, handsome man with the built of a rugby player. For a moment, he wondered if that was the path Jared had chosen in life, but then remembered Zowie mentioning his law degree when they were in Morocco. Jewell was nowhere to be seen, but then he remembered where both sisters had stood in the past, and guessed things hadn’t changed. He was a little disappointed that Zowie wasn’t in the picture, but that emotion faded when he found the last frame, and his heart constricted at the image it contained.

That picture had been taken what, five years ago, six? _Seven_ , a voice answered inside him belying the confusion Orlando was trying to fake. It had been taken seven years ago, a few days after Zowie had turned eighteen. It was a picture she had held close to her heart and that she had lost, amongst her every other worldly possession, the minute Matt had left her for dead in an alley in Los Angeles. It was the copy Orlando had given her not long before they had travelled to Spain to start shooting _“Kingdom of Heaven”_ , and knowing that she had kept it sent a tremor to his heart he couldn’t ignore, no matter how mad it made him.

Taken seven years ago in a kart park in Wellington, looking at the picture was like travelling back in time to a moment when everything was easier, when none of the problems that would arrive later even existed, and when nothing foreboded what would come next. It showed a thinner, much younger version of himself with a hairstyle that although practical, wasn’t too flattering now that he looked at it, along with other people that had formed the core of his life in New Zealand at the time. Amongst them, and standing right beside him, a very young Zowie beamed at him from the picture, an arm securely thrown around his waist as if she never meant to let him go. Such innocence and joy of being alive emanated from her as opposed to the depression and guilt that had surrounded her years later, that it could have broken his heart, hadn’t it been broken for three years already. Orlando looked around, incapable of staring at the picture any longer. This place was hers. Her imprint was there, from the pictures, to the ball tucked in the corner. And being there, surrounded by her aura, shook him to the very core.

Orlando shook his head. This wasn’t how he wanted to see her! This wasn’t how he planned this go at all! He wanted to be in control when it happened, and this simply wasn’t working. Taking a deep breath, Orlando tried to still his thumping heart, but he was still holding the picture in his hand and looking forlornly at it when the door of the office burst open and a voice that had filled his dreams for years filled the room.

“Lij! I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea-“

The shock that invaded his entire body was such, Orlando almost dropped the picture he held in his hand. He held on to it, though, clutching it with all his might as the sound of Zowie’s voice took over every inch of his being. It was soft, sweet, joyful… and the moment Orlando glanced over his shoulder, whatever determination he had felt until then vanished the instant their eyes met. He had come to Prescott with one goal: to confront her, to demand answers from her, and ultimately walk away from her like she had done, tearing him apart. Yet, looking into her blue eyes, noticing the surprise and the whirl of emotions there, robbed him of his goal.

The moment his brain finally comprehended that it was in fact Zowie who stood before him, Orlando felt as disarmed as never before.

For Zowie herself the moment was so surreal, she considered pinching herself, just in case this was some sort of wicked illusion and her mind was playing tricks on her. Never, when the new administrative told her that she had a visitor, had _this_ crossed her mind. She barely had any visitors to begin with! Elijah was her number one guest most of the times so it was only natural that Zowie would assume it was Lij who waited for her at her office, like many times before. She hadn’t expected _this_ , though… She hadn’t expected Orlando!

Her heart stuttered back to life in her chest as her eyes, wide with disbelief, settled on the tall man before her. Time might have passed, many things might have changed in her life, but if there was one thing that remained stable and unwavering no matter the time and the drama she might go through, that was the way Zowie felt for Orlando. One afternoon over seven years ago, Zowie’s life had changed for good, and that change had walked hand in hand with a young boy that had conquered her heart from the minute she saw him. That boy had turned into a man and had brought his dream of acting into a reality, and despite the time they had spent apart, Zowie still loved him.

Which was the precise reason why she had left him three years ago.

“Orlando…”

Out of the million thoughts that crossed her mind, his name was the one thing to leave her lips and suddenly, the guilt she felt at what she had done drowned her, and her eyes abandoned his for the first time since entering the room. When they fell on the frame he was holding, a gasp escaped her lips. She wasn’t the kind of person who framed pictures of every single individual that crossed her path in life. Her mum, her brother, some of the kids she had helped in the centre during the years… and the picture Orlando was holding. That time in her life would never be forgotten, for no matter the bad things that had happened to her later on, there were good memories to outmatch every single one of them. And those people in the picture? They held a very special place in her heart. Elijah was still her friend, up to this day, and Orlando… Orlando had never left her heart. He was the one who gave her that picture after Matt had taken everything away from her, as well as he had given her a will to live and improve that she had lacked until then.

“I remember that day.” Orlando said suddenly, and hearing his voice again after so long felt like the caress Zowie hadn’t received in a long, long time. Her entire being recognised him, and longed for him. “You were so happy…”

Why had those words even left his lips? Orlando bit the inside of his cheek as a punishment for his idiocy. He had to be in control of himself, he _needed_ to be in control! How else would his plans work? And yet, the first things to leave his lips were words full of a longing he had no interest on broadcasting so freely to her.

But seeing Zowie there, like a materialisation of his dreams, was playing havoc with his mind. Only this wasn’t a dreamed image, or one his mind had conjured to satisfy a deep, unsatisfied hunger inside him; this was real, and Zowie indeed stood before him, blue eyes wide with shock and looking just as beautiful, if not even more so, than ever before. She had obviously been outdoors, given the thermal clothes she wore, and with the blush of the cold wind and her hair pulled up in a ponytail, she was a sight that moved his heart.

What he said had an effect on her, and her blue eyes lowered for a second, the fingers of one hand fumbling with something around the wrist of the opposite arm. Her movement, full of awkwardness, caught Orlando’s attention, but it wasn’t until her hand moved away that he noticed what was wrapped around her wrist. A swirl of greens, blues and purples… it was the paua shell bracelet, the one he had given her as a birthday present!

Finding out that she still had it sent a tremor to Orlando’s heart, one that further weakened his already vulnerable resolve. It was her only possession to survive Matt’s wrath, and to see that she still had it, even after so long, made his heart thud and the coin resting against his chest to burn. It had been a spur of the moment, picking the long forgotten charms and once again wearing them around his neck. He had told himself he missed them and that they held too much of a meaning for him to keep them in a drawer; now he wondered whether it was the sentimental value they held as a whole, or the meaning that New Zealand coin hidden amongst them had what had prompted him to wear them again.

Zowie stared up at him, and the distance that separated them, no longer than three or four feet in her tiny little office, felt like a bottomless chasm impossible to cross. She didn’t regret having left him three years ago. Yes, it had torn her apart to do so, but there had been no other way out for her.

Nothing ever before had demanded so much from her as picking her bags up and leaving Morocco and Orlando behind had. But she had done it. They had had a fight, yes; the one and only fight they had ever had in the time they’d known each other. Yes, she had been mad at him before, back in those days in New Zealand for one reason or the other, but none of them could compare to what she felt that day in her tiny hotel in Ouarzazate. What he had demanded from her, which was to go out and join him in his house as if nothing had happened, was something she couldn’t do. She might not have jeopardised his position in _“Kingdom of Heaven”_ as such, but she had certainly ruined his relationship with the director and the production team. Could she do something so reckless it would end up bringing him trouble? No. Looking back three years in time and remembering the pain she had felt at ruining his experience, her answer was still the same.

Zowie had been a bit disappointed of him, yes, but it was a mix of his own words before that night and Geoff’s what had made her come to the conclusion she arrived to in that hotel room in Morocco. Once, Orlando had told her she needed to be strong for herself; not for him or her family, but for herself. How else would she get better, otherwise? Geoff had told her that it was time to do what she felt she had to do, and what she had to do, was to learn how to be strong for herself once again.

Zowie’s eyes cherished Orlando’s features, so familiar and yet, so very new to her. He wasn’t a dream anymore, just like he wasn’t the man that would make everything right for her; Zowie had learnt that the hard way. Seeing him that day in Morocco, seeing him show his own stubbornness and for once show that he too could be irrational at things, like she herself had so many times before, had shown Zowie that Orlando was, above all, a man. A _real_ man. A man with defects just like her own, a man whose patience had a limit, and one that, every once in a while, might not do everything she wanted him to. And for someone who had spent her entire life wrapping men around her finger and then filling them with guilt until they did whatever she wanted them to, seeing that was refreshing – and sobering. Disappointing too, to a certain extent, but also the smack she needed on the head to understand that Orlando wasn’t the prince charming that would barge in on a white horse to make everything right for her so she wouldn’t have to do anything on her own. He had been right when telling her she liked being miserable, and that thought alone had been enough to let her see what she had to do.

Even after three years, what she felt in her heart at the sight of him hadn’t changed one bit.

“How…?” Zowie managed to utter that single word, but the sudden frown that creased Orlando’s face was enough answer. “Elijah.”

Orlando nodded without a word, but the sudden cold that crept up his once warm gaze sent a little shiver down her spine. If she had ever thought, amongst the mass of confusing thoughts that had crossed her mind in the last couple of minutes, that Orlando was there to restart what they had left unfinished in Morocco, she could now see how wrong and foolish she had been. He wasn’t there to claim undying love for her; he was there to seek answers to those questions that had remained unanswered for so long!

A wave of shame that she couldn’t control overwhelmed Zowie. However, it only lasted for a brief instant. She had come a long way and had also come to terms with her decisions, which had proved to be correct. Whether Orlando thought of them the same way or not… that escaped her. A long time spent in counselling and baring her heart and soul had shown her that she needed to learn to love others with their treats and defects… and that they should do the same to her in return, for no one was perfect.

“Why, Zowie?” Orlando said suddenly, and although it was obvious he tried to sound detached, the pain and the anger couldn’t be concealed from his voice. “What does Elijah have to do with this? Why did he know you were here and I didn’t?”

Her blue eyes slipped closed at his fervent questioning, and when they fixed themselves on him once again, Orlando saw that the light in them had dimmed considerably. Seeing them like that felt like a slap on the face, and suddenly he remembered how he had once accused her of being masochistic. Perhaps she did have a tendency to being such, and just like every addict, she too took advantage of being in a position where everyone else was to blame for what happened to them, except for the addicts themselves. Yet, the moment he noticed something akin to shame and pain glowing in her eyes, some of the previous emotions he had felt flooded through him. She had no right to be angry… _he_ did! He had been the one abandoned without as much as a note, left to wonder what had been of her for three long years and _she_ felt pain?

But then, seeing her before him, remembering how she felt in his arms, everything she had done and gone through for him, shame invaded him for questioning her like that. But he needed answers, nonetheless, and Zowie was the only one who could give them to him.

“Lij helped me.” Zowie said finally, her fingers once again toying with the bracelet, as if it brought her peace in a moment of turmoil, and the sole thought made Orlando’s heart skip a beat. “After I was fired in Morocco, I realised that things would keep repeating themselves unless I took charge or unless things changed. Well, unless _I_ changed.” Looking up at him, she added. “Lij had offered me help lots of times before. I just had to call him and a few hours later, I was in a plane to New York.”

The words Zowie said helped Orlando put together those pieces of the puzzle that still remained scattered after so long but, at the same time, they raised more questions that altered those he had thought were safely tucked in place. She hadn’t done this on her own. That international call the guy at the front desk of her hotel had mentioned? Had they been able to track the number the way Orlando had wished to, they would have found out straight away who had been behind her disappearance. Suddenly, the anger he had felt at Elijah grew to new proportions. How could someone call himself his _friend_ and still hide something like this from him for three years? Had they been able to track her down from the very beginning, Orlando would have spared himself years of pain.

The word sounded strangled when it came out of his lips, but he pushed it out nonetheless.

“Why?”

The way Zowie looked up at him, straight in the eye, rocked Orlando to his very core. There was such a certainty in her gaze, such a self-assuredness that he hadn’t seen there before, that he had the feeling that everything he had known about Zowie until then was gone, and that he knew nothing of the person who stood before him now. For someone who had always had a conception of her that hadn’t varied much in eight years, that threw him off that safe centre he had built for himself.

“Because I needed to get better, Orlando. I had to, and it’d have never happened if I kept hiding behind you all the time.”

Zowie’s words, sure and certain, punched Orlando’s heart until it stopped beating for so long, he didn’t know what would happen to him. When it kicked back to life, his heart, after having taken such a beating, thudded against his ribcage. This Zowie who stood before him looked just like the girl he knew; changed in some subtle physical aspects that only someone who had committed her every feature to memory, such as him, could notice, but she still remained the same. The Zowie who, in so many words, had told him that she had needed him _out_ of her life to get better, or that she didn’t need him to do so, was a complete stranger to him.

Zowie had always needed him. For one reason or another, he had always been a rock she could lean on whenever she needed to, and to a certain extent, he had enjoyed that role, and had even relied on it. She had left New Zealand to go after him. His reckless actions had led her to a drug addiction. In Morocco, she had clung to the love they shared for strength when she needed it the most. In a deep, secret corner of his heart, it had given him certainty.

But now Zowie didn’t need him anymore. Or didn’t seem to, and that was something he had to learn to come to terms with, for it turned the tables in a way that escaped his control.

Carefully setting the picture back on the table, Orlando turned to Zowie. God knew he was still angry, but looking at her, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and have the past three years vanish as if nothing had happened. But he didn’t. He had done none of the things he had come to do and he only had one of the answers he had come to demand, and if he stayed in that office a minute longer, Orlando had no idea what he would do. But since his lips kept doing the thinking instead of his brain, they formed words his mind knew he shouldn’t say, but that his heart pushed out with all its might.

“Would you… umm… would you mind if I came to visit? There are still a lot of things we need to talk about.”

That last bit had been the only contribution of his brain to that proposal. His heart had done the begging, but his brain had spewed the warning: this wasn’t over. Not just yet.

Zowie seemed taken aback by his request, for her eyes widened and a spark he didn’t know how to interpret lit in them before she nodded.

“Sure.” She said. “Yes. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

Orlando stepped up to her on his way to the door. When he stopped, there was only a whisper between them, and his presence, his scent, his warmth, enveloped Zowie with memories that made her heart race and her body respond to his in ways that surprised her, as if it came to life after long years of being dormant.

When she looked up, Orlando’s eyes were dark and intent on her, and they robbed her of her breath. His lips parted as if to say something, but then pressed themselves tightly together before he hurried out of her office. Her knees gave in beneath her, and Zowie collapsed on the nearest chair, gasping for breath as her brain tried to assimilate what had just happened.

How long had it lasted? Three, four minutes? Even less? She didn’t know, but those short minutes? They had changed her life forever. This man kept leading her life to abrupt turns. Difference was that now, after a long, long time, Zowie felt she finally had the means to deal with those changes Orlando brought along.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6.**

 

Zowie had forgotten many days of her life; being an addict does that to you after a while. Back in the day when she tried to numb her pain, substances had helped her for a while, but nonetheless, grief would always return and her fake lifesaver would abandon her adrift in a grey sea of self-pity. Yet, she had learnt to control her need for escape; that was what a conscious rehab effort did to you. She wasn’t feeling any pain now after Orlando’s visit; what she did feel, though, was a turmoil unleashing inside her such as she hadn’t felt in years.

Back when Zowie had been put in a position where she had to ask her mum to come over and visit her so she could start asking for forgiveness to those she had hurt, she hadn’t felt like this. Noemie had been informed of her move straight away – for there was no way Zowie could once again disappear without a trace without killing her mum with grief – and although the woman had of course been shocked, upon finding out her daughter’s motives, she had offered Zowie her undivided support. She would have travelled to the US the minute Zowie arrived there, but the rehab protocol demanded her daughter remained without contact with her family for the first two weeks, to focus on her efforts. When they finally met, it was obviously emotional and painful for Zowie, but now? Hadn’t Zowie been full of tools that showed her the right way, she didn’t know what she would do. Or rather, she _did_ know, she just refused to think about it. She would never fall for that trap again; she had come much too far for that.

Still, what seeing Orlando had awakened inside her was unavoidable. Zowie had managed to go back to work once he left, returning to the usual routine of planning field trips, answering phone calls and even going as far as attending a meeting, but looking back, she really didn’t understand how. It was a talent she hadn’t know she possessed until that day, she realized, for while she succeeded in doing all those things in an almost mechanical way, in her mind, she had been turning the events of the afternoon over and over. But even when that skill failed to be enough and the turmoil inside her threatened with unleashing and carrying her away, Zowie went the one way she knew could guarantee clarity and peace of mind in the toughest of times: counselling.

What Rebecca Selman had done for her was nothing short of a miracle. She had listened to her, yes, but most importantly, she had confronted Zowie with demons and facts she had refused to acknowledge for years. And by confronting her with those truths, she had led her down the path of recovery and self-discovery.

She was nothing like the girl that had walked in three years ago with nothing but a suitcase and a heart full of determination; under the guidance of Rebecca, her counsellor, Zowie had achieved stability of heart, mind and soul, and had become the person she was meant to be. With her help, she had patched things up with her mum and her brother and had also learned to accept that Jewell still wanted nothing to do with her. She had even reconciled with part of her anger towards her dad, but in that moment, thinking of William made her think of Orlando, and those were thoughts that didn’t lead her down any good path. Zowie sighed as she walked. She had succeeded on exorcising many demons during her stay at _A Sober Way Home_ , but Orlando and William, the two most important men in her life, still remained in a limbo. Now that one of them had just presented himself to her, well... it was enough to throw her entire world off balance.

When she found a door with a small, dark wooden sign that read _Rebecca Selman_ , Zowie knew she had arrived to her destination. She had done counselling for the entire time her recovery process had lasted, and even some more once it was done. The meetings had become more and more scarce as time flew by, and as for recent times, Zowie had only visited Rebecca when something really bothered her. Today, for instance, was the perfect example of that.

“Come in.” A voice answered to Zowie’s soft knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and snuck her head inside.

“Hi, Rebecca.” She said mustering a smile. “Are you busy?”

Upon seeing her, the woman gave her a wide, warm smile that made Zowie feel a little more at ease. Rebecca had that talent; she made people feel calm and at ease with admitting things they hadn’t before, not even to themselves. In her early fifties, Rebecca was a short and rather plump woman with a bob of dark red hair and permanent reading glasses perched on her nose. Zowie had come to known her face as her own, and trusted its owner with her heart.

“No, no… come in. Can I help you?”

Zowie entered the office and closed the door behind her. Slipping her hands in the pockets of her bright pink thermal jacket, she stared anxiously at Rebecca.

“Do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”

Some of her emotions must have transpired in her voice and words, for Rebecca quit what she was doing – piling papers on her desk – and eyed her with a thorough look. Three years ago, that same look had made Zowie feel vulnerable, exposed, and not too keen on sharing what was in her heart. Now, however, she knew that opening up could do a lot of good to someone like her.

Whatever it was that she saw on her was enough to make Rebecca leave all her papers aside and point a couch across the office. It wasn’t the one Zowie had used countless times before, but the purpose it served was exactly the same. Still located right by the large window, it overlooked the now snowy landscape of mountains rising not too far away; a landscape Zowie had lost herself in many, many times as she recounted events of her past.

Plopping on the sofa, Zowie turned her attention from the beautiful view to the woman staring at her from above her glasses.

“How have you been, Zowie? It’s been a while since we last talked. Job’s going well?”

Zowie nodded.

“Oh yes, job’s fine. We had an excursion today and everything went great. Those confidence exercises you told me about are going great. The kids are really beginning to trust each other.”

Confidence building exercises were a vital part of any rehab process, and when dealing with teenagers and young adults, like this particular centre did, they were of utmost importance. Most of them had got into an addiction because they found it impossible to trust someone with their issues, and learning how to build that trust was vital if they were going to go on with their lives as normally as possible. Zowie knew that first hand.

Rebecca nodded with a smile. She wasn’t a woman to unnecessarily beat around the bush, and especially not when Zowie had made the reasons for her visit clear from the moment she had popped her head through the door.

“So, I assume it’s not your job what you want to talk about.”

There wasn’t the tiniest hint of a question in her words. It was the statement of a fact and Zowie sighed as an admission. No need to beat around the bush either, right?

“Orlando’s here.”

The look of surprise in Rebecca’s face would have been funny, hadn’t Zowie been so lost in her confusion. The raised eyebrows, the wide eyes and the silent o of her lips, however, did manage to make a corner of Zowie’s lips curl if only the slightest. The counsellor knew everything there was to know about Orlando, Zowie’s relationship with him and, above all, her feelings for him, what made Rebecca the right person to go to in her time of need.

“Elijah’s in England. He’s making a movie there.” Needless to say, the counsellor knew all about Zowie’s friend too. “I don’t know why, but he contacted Orlando and told him how to find me. He was in my office earlier today when I arrived from the excursion.”

At that, Rebecca frowned.

“But… how? The centre has a strict policy regarding those who come into the facilities. No one gets into our offices that easily!”

“I talked to the new administrative earlier. I asked her why she had let someone who had never been here before in so easily, and she told me that she had heard that I had a famous friend. She saw Orlando, and well… you can imagine the rest.”

Rebecca tsked. Most likely, Zowie wouldn’t tell on the new girl, otherwise, she was in for some big trouble. When you worked with people that, sometimes, hadn’t actually agreed to being in the facilities in the first place, you had to be very careful with whom you let in and what they brought. A slip like this could be disastrous.

But it wasn’t the new employee’s incompetence or lack of judgement what got them there that afternoon, and one look at Zowie told her how much her former patient needed her help.

“How was it?”

Utterly lost, Zowie shook her head. Had it been good? Had it been bad?

“I’m not sure, honestly.” A sigh escaped her and her shoulders collapsed, making her feel like a deflated balloon. “I wasn’t expecting it. Hell, I don’t think I _ever_ imagined I’d see him here. I mean, of course, part of me always wished to go to him, find him and tell him why I did what I did, but seeing him here… standing in _my_ office… it just blew me away.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked, and Zowie took a few seconds to ponder her answer.

“Because I always thought I’d do things on my own time and that I’d go to him when I felt ready to. But Elijah made that decision for me, and suddenly I was faced with more things that I can handle. And then, seeing Orlando there…” Zowie took a deep breath and her eyes fixed on the counsellor’s. “I wasn’t sure whether he was going to bite my head off or do something equally nasty.”

At her admission, Rebecca’s eyes widened and whatever she had been about to say was forgotten as wariness took over her features instead.

“Did he attack you?”

Lost as she was in the fresh memories of what had happened just mere hours ago, it took Zowie a moment for those words to sink in. Their full meaning hit her square on her chest, and her own blue eyes grew in shock as she shook her head emphatically.

“What? Attack me?” The sole idea, even considering everything she had put Orlando through, seemed ridiculous. He had seemed angry and ready to snap and say many things, but to attack her physically? Never. He wasn’t Matt. “God, no! Orlando isn’t like that. He’d never do such thing.” She was emphatic in her denial, for she didn’t want to leave any doubts in the counsellor. “It’s just that he was so serious, so silent! And he looked so mad at me, which is… well, kind of obvious, but… seeing it on his face, in his eyes, it made me feel that perhaps I should have handled things a little differently. Not just vanish in thin air like I did.”

Rebecca studied Zowie attentively. They had talked about Orlando and her feelings for him since the very beginning of their counselling sessions, and part of the girl’s healing process had been confronting precisely that: what that young man had awoken in her, and how to handle those feelings, for they were still very much there. It hadn’t been hard, for Zowie had pretty much come to the same conclusions on her own, so now Rebecca would be very surprised if she had changed her mind about what she had done in the past.

“Do you regret it?”

Zowie stared at her in puzzlement.

“Regret what, Rebecca?”

“What you did.”

Confused, Zowie frowned for a second until the words of her counsellor made sense.

“No. Not at all. I’ll never regret that.” She answered, and her voice sounded strong and sure, something that hadn’t been there in their first sessions three years ago. “I did what I did because it was the only way out. I _had_ to get better.”

“So, then. You’re sure of what you did and you think it was right. What’s bothering you, then?”

Zowie took a deep breath. She had got a lot better at admitting things and seeing the truth behind her actions, but she was far from perfect. A mistake was a mistake, and she knew how bad its consequences could be.

“I don’t regret what I did _per se_. What I do think, however, is that I should have handled things in a different way. I still would have left Morocco no matter what because I wasn’t doing him any favours as it was, but perhaps I shouldn’t have left the way I did. Perhaps I should have left him a trail he could follow so he could find me. After all, I think it was finding out the truth through Elijah what bothered him the most. That Lij knew where and how I was and he didn’t. He even said so himself.”

After giving her a thoughtful nod and a brief, pondering silence, Rebecca countered with a question.

“Do you really think you should have handled things differently? Or did you do them this way because it was exactly what you needed at the time?”

A tiny little smile touched Zowie’s full lips. Trust it to a counsellor to answer with questions ninety-nine per cent of the time! But that was how it worked, she mused. The best way to realise of things yourself was to see them for what they truly were, and not have a third person telling you what to feel and what to do. What kind of change would that be? First depending on drugs to hide the pain, and then depending on a counsellor to tell you what to do? Not very wise, and Zowie knew all there was to know about dependency.

“No.” Her answer was clear and it resonated all over the office. “Like I said, I did what I did because it was the only way out. I _had_ to leave. After I was fired, there was no other way. And had I told him what I planned to do, where I planned to go, I don’t see how I would have recovered.”

And she wasn’t lying. Because even back then, blinded by pain, she had known that as long as she hid behind Orlando, as long as she cowered in his shadow and put the responsibility of her own life in his hands, nothing would ever change. She had depended on him for years, and in the worse possible way. First hoping he would make the pain of her parents’ divorce disappear, then trying to leave drugs only to please him. Only through grief and a healthy dose of anger had Zowie succeeded on understanding that the solution to her addiction was in her hands; only then did her life start making sense once again. She had had to hurt him to do so, but God knew the process hadn’t actually been pain-free for her either! She had left thinking her love was bad for him, that the only thing she did was bring him pain, and solely through a heavy process of counselling and of conscious questioning of herself, her feelings, and what Orlando had claimed to feel for her, had Zowie managed to erase that notion from her heart. She had made a mistake in hiding Matt’s presence in Morocco that had cost her dearly, and she had paid for every bit of it.

“Are you thinking about failure again, Zowie?”

Rebecca’s words snapped her back to the present. Her blue eyes met her counsellor’s, and the question echoed in her ears. Was she? Rebecca had been there every step of the way as Zowie first battled against accepting her fear of failure, and then as she accepted its existence and traced their origins to her need to keep her dad by her side by any means. She had been surprised to discover that something that had happened when she couldn’t even remember still had such power over her, but then, as time passed, she realised that there had always been a tension between her parents that she had dutifully ignored, but that had marked her entire life.

“Yes and no. I failed at times. I mean, I made many mistakes in the past.” She hurried to add. “But not this. You know exactly how long it took me to realise that _this_ wasn’t a failure, that I hadn’t done anything wrong.  I succeeded at this, at getting better. It’s just the _how_ that haunts me. It always did, and seeing how it affected Orlando… it made it all even worse.”

Rebecca nodded, and a little smile touched her lips.

“You have no idea how happy hearing your words makes me. You’re right – you succeeded. Orlando was hurt, there’s no denying that, but you’ve realised that you can’t carry on sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of others’. And that feeling of being haunted by what you did? I think there’s a way to bring it to an end and that it’s the right time to do it, too.”

Zowie stared at her straight in the eye, perspicacious enough to know what Rebecca meant without her actually saying so.

“You want me to confront him.”

“Exactly.” Rebecca nodded proudly, and then, leaning back in her chair, she stared at her from above her reading glasses. “I think your time is coming, Zowie. The time to start living your life once again. Confront Orlando. Talk things through. If he’s here, it’s because he too wants to talk. Don’t let this opportunity slip past.”

Rebecca sounded unusually fervent, and Zowie felt her words reaching her heart. It all made lots of sense to her, but it didn’t actually help with the one matter that truly nagged her at the back of her mind.

“You know what really worries me, Rebecca? Not that he will be mad at me or that he won’t want to listen to a single word I say. I can deal with that because that’s, well, the normal reaction anyone would expect from him. Me, especially. But what I’m really afraid of is that, now that he’s back in my life, I’ll lose my centre.”

“How is that?” Rebecca asked, looking obviously confused.

Zowie sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. She was facing the biggest insecurity she had felt in years, even bigger so that what she had felt when Noemie came to see her for the first time. She had worked hard to reach this place in her life, and was suddenly scared to death of losing that carefully achieved balance.

“I’m afraid that I’ll lose my centre.” She repeated with her eyes fixed on Rebecca. “That I’ll become obsessed with him once again like I was all those years, and I’m terrified it’ll bring me back to drugs if things don’t work out.”

There, she had said it. Years ago, she would have kept it all bottled up inside her until it slowly rotted her inside out, but now she had blurted it out mere hours after the thought first entered her mind. That was one of the achievements Zowie was afraid of losing if Orlando decided coming to Prescott was nothing but a big waste of his time.

“Why do you think such thing will happen, Zowie? You’ve achieved so much, you’re so much stronger than you were when you first came here. You have a good head on your shoulders. You always did, a few mistakes won’t change that. Why now that Orlando is back in your life, you fear something like this will come to happen?”

“Because every time he was in my life, he wasn’t simply a part of it… he was my _entire_ life. He was the centre of my existence, everything I did, I did it for him. If he did something I didn’t like, it felt like hell. If he left, my whole world crumbled to pieces and I was unable to pick them up. My life revolved around him and his actions, even when he wasn’t there. I tried to do what would make him happy, what would make him proud, without once thinking what those things would to me, and you ask me why I fear such thing will happen again?”

“Because, like I said,” Rebecca answered in a calm voice that was a stark contrast to Zowie’s heated speech, “you’ve grown up and you’ve strengthened your heart and your mind. Three years ago, seven years ago, you were still a little girl trying to please those you loved so they wouldn’t leave you behind like you father had. Now you’ve grown into a confident woman, you’ve put _yourself_ and your well-being first and foremost and I don’t see how you’ll allow anyone, let alone yourself, put you back in that position. I’m willing to bet that Orlando will understand what you went through and will be willing to listen, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. If he’s considerate, he’ll understand, or at least try to. I’d bet he too did some growing up himself while you two were apart and while he enjoyed being at the core of everything you did, things have changed for him too now. Once again, don’t let this chance go, Zowie. You can always talk to me, but even more importantly, you should talk to Orlando about this. I can’t predict what will happen and neither can I tell you what to do, but I sure can tell you that I trust you, and that’s more than I can say about lots of people.” When Zowie remained silent, Rebecca added. “How do you feel about him?”

Zowie’s eyes drifted to the painteresque scene outside the window. She took a deep breath. Although the answer was clear in her heart and mind, she doubted putting it into words made a difference in this matter.

“I still love him.”

“So what’s the problem, then?” The counsellor seemed to think everything was solved that easily, but Zowie knew better. “Tell him to pay me a visit when he drops by. I’d really like to talk to him.”

When Zowie left Rebecca’s office minutes later, she felt torn. On one hand, she felt relieved and reassured by her former counsellor’s confidence, but on the other, she was certain she would have to face this very, very carefully. She did have the means not to depend on anyone but herself now, but this was Orlando, and as far as he was concerned, nothing came out quite as she expected.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7.**

 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee tickled Zowie’s nose as she sat down on the sofa, feet tucked under her as she stared at the open laptop resting on her coffee table. It was early, barely past 7 AM, and God knew Zowie loved to sleep in even if only five minutes when given the chance, but this morning, she had things to do. So after taking a shower, blow drying her hair and changing into warm clothes to face her day of work, Zowie prepared herself to tackle the next task of her day: facing Elijah. Or cross-examining him, more like it. She loved Elijah with all her heart and would be forever grateful for everything he had done for her, but some matters… they just needed to be addressed.

She sipped her coffee, and her gaze drifted, for a moment, to the view she had from the living room window of the apartment Elijah had helped her pick two years ago, right around the time she was discharged as a patient of the centre. Back in the day, Noemie had tried to convince her to move to New Zealand, to go back to her family and start rebuilding her life in her home country, but Zowie hadn’t been too keen on it. She felt safe in Prescott. With a population of little over 30,000 people, it was the relaxed and healthy kind of place she had needed at the time. No one knew her there, no one knew of her past, and even though pictures of her had been plastered on tabloids all over the world by the time she arrived in Prescott in April 15th, 2004, no one had related her to Orlando. Of course, the people at the centre knew Elijah and knew he was her friend, but other than Rebecca, no one knew of her link to Orlando, and she had fought for it to be kept that way. It’s not that she was ashamed of their past relationship; she just hadn’t wanted him to be dragged into yet another mess when she could avoid it. The balance Zowie had achieved had been hard won, and she had been willing to do what it took to keep it that way.

Until Orlando showed up at her office, of course.

And how that had come to happen, only Elijah could tell.

Setting her cup on the coffee table, she pressed a random key on her laptop and the black screen came to life, showing a landscape of Thumb Butte taken during Jared’s last visit to Prescott. That day, her brother had insisted they tackled the mountain trail, and the image of the rock formation surrounded by lush vegetation and a cloudless blue sky was a stark contrast to the view it now presented with snow dotting it here and there.

Nevertheless, as beautiful as the picture was, there were some more urgent matters that required her attention, and logging into her instant messaging service of choice, she checked who in her rather short list of contacts was available. Those in Prescott, unlike her, were obviously still asleep, and even her mom and her brother were offline; which wasn’t that surprising, since a quick mental calculation told Zowie it had to be around 3 A.M. of the following day in Wellington. There was a single, tiny green light in her screen, though, and that was all she had been expecting to see. Inviting him for a videocall, Zowie patiently waited until Elijah answered her request.

A soft _ping_ echoed in her small living room, letting her know that Elijah had pressed ‘yes’ and consequently, tightening the knot in her stomach. She didn’t want to fight with her friend and would try her best to control her temper, but she couldn’t know what would happen. Elijah had made a decision that was hers and hers alone to make, and that wasn’t something that sat well with her.

The sudden appearance of Elijah’s face on the screen, reading glasses perched on his nose and wearing a beaming smile, was followed by a greeting to match.

“Hey, Zow! What’s up? What are you doing up so early? I couldn’t believe it when I saw you were online.”

Zowie tried to paste a smile to her lips, one that matched her friend’s cheerfulness, but for some reason, it felt more like a grimace than the honest and true smile her friend deserved. It felt wrong, but her feelings couldn’t be denied; that was one of the lessons she had learnt in rehab.

“Hi there, Lij. I’m fine.” She said, trying to add a lightness to her tone that she really didn’t feel. “I figured I’d give up some precious hours of sleep just to annoy the hell out of you on your lunch break.”

She tried to make it come out as a joke, but it was so half-hearted, Zowie didn’t miss the small, almost imperceptible furrowing of Elijah’s frown. He had noticed her bitterness, and it was a credit to his character that he carried on as if nothing had happened, or that he patched this up just to something as banal as early morning crankiness.

“How’s everything over there? Is it still snowing? I swear to God, if I get as much as a week off soon, I’m flying over there so we can do some climbing. I miss it. Even if it’s colder than a witch’s tit, as I’ve heard some people say over here.”

“Well, it _is_ snowing and forecast says it will carry on doing so for a while so… let me know.”

Elijah grinned.

“Yeah… I really miss that couch.”

When he pointed at the piece of furniture beneath her, Zowie couldn’t help but grin, despite her troubled feelings. It was a second-hand piece, and last time Elijah had slept there, a spring came free and pinched his leg in the middle of the night, sending them both into a frenzy when he let out a loud yelp. Scared, and wondering if some sort of dangerous animal had somehow made it to her first floor apartment – since, after all, she _did_ live in an area where poisonous creatures abounded – they scanned her entire apartment, until they realised it was no snake or spider that had attacked Elijah, but a loose spring instead.

“Hey, I got it fixed since the last time you were here. I’m sitting on it as we speak and there are no loose springs.”

Laughing softly, Elijah visibly relaxed, but his next question erased what little good mood remained in Zowie.

“I’m glad to hear that. How’s work?”

Zowie took a deep breath. God knew she hated what she was about to do, but she couldn’t live with that thorn on her side.

“Work’s fine. You know what it’s like, not two days are the same and neither are two groups alike. Which reminds me…” Taking a deep breath, Zowie decided she and Elijah were on a stage of their friendship where they could say anything to each other, and the other would understand, or at the very least make the effort. “I did have quite a big surprise yesterday, though.”

“Really?” Elijah asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses and offering her his undivided attention. “What was it?”

“What was it? Orlando standing in my office. Care to explain how on earth he managed to find me?”

Lij’s eyes, naturally round, looked as if they could positively pop out of his head the second he interpreted Zowie’s words, and even though the grainy image did her no favours, she could easily make out his sudden pallor and every emotion he felt in his heart as they crossed his clear blue eyes. Shock, disbelief, dread… Zowie read them all, and a feeling of anger bubbled up inside her.

“Zowie, I…” He began to say, but his friend interrupted him.

“Lij, how _could_ you?? Can you imagine what it was like for me? I’m told I have a visitor, and when I walk into my office expecting to see you, bam! Not only you’re not there… _Orlando_ is! I was… I was…” Zowie struggled to find the correct manner to describe how she had felt when her eyes had met Orlando’s in her office, but she couldn’t put words to the myriad of emotions that had swirled in her heart at the sight of him. Just reliving that moment awakened them all over again, making her heart flutter against her ribs. “I just can’t describe it with words, Lij, but… God!” Out of words, Zowie hid her face in her hands.

It remained covered for brief instants, but to Elijah, they felt like the longest lapse of time ever. When he had embarked in that adventure in England, when he decided it was time to close the cycle, he had thought it would be for the best for everyone involved. He knew it wouldn’t be easy and that doing so would break the bubble of safety Zowie lived in, and that stepping out of her comfort zone would shatter it, but he was confident that it was the precise thing she needed to finish her recovery process. Seeing what it did to her, however, filled him with doubts.

Those doubts, nonetheless, were short-lived. Although seeing her like that, with her face in her hands and witnessing her anger, her confusion and her pain twisted his own heart in a tormenting fashion, Elijah remained certain of his motives. Zowie _needed_ to come out. She needed to see the world. Sure, she had left the centre the minute she was discharged and had been making a living for herself ever since, but her life still revolved around that place. She worked there, rarely visited other places, and had yet to leave Prescott. Noemie had been trying to talk her into visiting her family in New Zealand to no avail, and Elijah himself had tried time and again to convince her to visit him in Los Angeles, failing as well. If she never crossed that threshold, if she never opened the door to the new life that anxiously waited for her, she would slowly wither, and the promise everyone could see in her would vanish without a trace. That, Elijah mused, wasn’t something he could allow, and if in order to do that he had to bring Orlando in, then he would.

He was about to speak his mind when Zowie looked up, and the full power of her blue gaze hit him, even through the grainy picture and the distance.

“Why did you send him over, Elijah? Why? What were you thinking?”

“I sent him there because you needed to see him. And he needed it too.” Elijah’s voice sounded deadpan. “You know I love you, Zow, and that I’d never hurt you. I’ve supported you through everything. You’ve done great so far and you’ve come a long way, but it’s time you and Orlando set things straight.”

“But it was _not_ your decision to make!” Zowie counterattacked. What Elijah was saying was right, but she clung to the anger she felt. She didn’t want to give in so easily.

“But you were never going to make it!” Elijah said heartedly. “We’ve talked about this before, remember? You said you’d do it when you were ready…”

“And I meant it!”

“… but you never will be. Not if you keep hiding in Prescott! I get it – it’s a great place to live and working at the centre can be fulfilling, but Zowie… there’s a whole wide world out there. There’s a _life_ out there, waiting for you, and whether you want to admit it or not, Orlando _is_ a part of said life. A rather huge part, I’d say. And unless you two guys talk, smooth things out and are honest with each another, none of you will ever be happy.”

Zowie parted her lips, a perfectly good and reasonable argument ready to leave her mouth, when Elijah’s words finally sank in.

“What do _I_ have to do with Orlando’s happiness? He’s got a career, he’s successful and famous around the world, and I’m sure he’s living a pretty good life over there in London. I mean, what else could he possibly want? What difference can I make? If you remember correctly, I abandoned the guy three years ago. I _abandoned_ him, Lij. And to top it all, I almost screwed his first starring role while at it. Then I walked out on him leaving him nothing but a voicemail and then disappeared from his life for years. It’s a miracle he came all the way over here to do other than strangle me to death for all that I did to him.”

The sole possibility that she could still mean something so important to Orlando made her heart skip a beat, but she kept that feeling under a tight and steely control; there were far too many aspects to worry about before she nursed such ideas.

Elijah exhaled loudly. Every feeling he had for Zowie and that had made their friendship grow into one with no barriers or secrets whatsoever, begged him to tell her all he had seen in Orlando that night, but his instincts told him to stop his meddling right there and then. Orlando and Zowie were finally reunited, and whatever happened from then on, would have to be up to them. He loved his friends and they were both mad at him in that very instant, but he was sure that, deep down inside, they were thankful for his intervention. It was obvious that, although she had never stopped loving Orlando, Zowie wouldn’t be the one to go after him, afraid of leaving behind the safety she had created for herself and of facing the world she had abandoned three years ago. And as for Orlando, well… he too had seemed stubborn about it when they met, but in his defence, Elijah had to say that the other man had never had the means to contact Zowie, which gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He sighed. Oh, what the hell…

“You want to know whether Orlando is mad at you? Yes, I’m sure he is. I would too if you’d disappeared without a trace.” He said, not sweetening the truth the tiniest bit. After years of fooling herself and of having other people dancing at the rhythm she ordered, Zowie needed nothing but the brutal truth to strengthen herself. When she winced, he knew he had hit home. “But you’re important to him. Why else would he travel all the way from London to Prescott? And no offense, but honestly, as much as I like it there, Prescott is hardly _the_ tourist spot to visit when you come to America.” He added, half joking, half stating the obvious in case Zowie tried to rebuke his argument. “What I’m trying to say here, Zowie, and that you _have_ to understand, is that Orlando would have _never_ bothered taking that plane in the first place if you weren’t important to him in any shape or form. Is he angry? I already said he probably is. Does he need answers? He deserves them, even. Does he hate you? I don’t think so. Didn’t he once say that he loved you?”

Zowie might have changed and grown up, but deep inside, she was still stubborn, and more than willing to share her view of the matter. Those last words Elijah had thrown on her lap, however, silenced her more efficiently than anything ever before and Zowie, open-mouthed as she stared at her friend’s face on the screen, was left speechless for so long, she might have very well forgotten how to speak altogether.

She remembered that night as clearly as if it had happened the day before. Memories filled her heart and soul, and Zowie could almost feel Orlando’s skin against hers as he made her his and offered himself to her as fully as she had never experienced before. After years and years of pining after him, Zowie had finally been able to share her feelings with Orlando, and moreover, he had reciprocated them. Everything had been perfect that night. For once, Zowie had known what joy truly was, and she had met it in his arms. Her feelings for Orlando had never changed, they had merely grown up with her, morphing from the obsession she had felt in the past into a healthier, more adult way of feeling. Had Orlando’s experienced the same evolution, or had his steered in the opposite direction? Elijah’s words gave her hope, but Zowie refused to cling blindly to it.

“Don’t you think he might have very well changed his mind since? It’s been three years, Elijah. And I _did_ walk away from him in the most horrible way.”

 _Here comes the meddling,_ Elijah thought after hearing her.

“Not from what I saw in London. I don’t think so.”

The sudden pallor in Zowie’s face didn’t go unnoticed to Elijah, and neither did the bright blush that coloured her features next. He had done enough meddling to last him for a lifetime, but when observing her reaction, he knew it had paid off. _Good_ , he thought to himself when he observed the play of emotions in her face. Give Zowie something to think about. Give her the motivations she needs to cross the threshold of her safe, yet not entirely happy life. If it worked the way he expected, then Zowie would finally, and completely, have full control of her life in a world that was far bigger than the safe, comfortable bubble she had created for herself.

And boy had he given Zowie things to think about! What Elijah had implied, what he had so bluntly put in her hands for her to analyse, opened doors she had never imagined would open up for her. But regardless of the hope that blossomed in her heart, Zowie once again forced herself to keep a clear head on her shoulders. If the time came when Elijah’s words were proved wrong, then she would suffer if she had taken them too seriously, and Zowie didn’t want that anymore.

“God, Lij… I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the past but, this? This is a bit too much.”

As if that meant nothing, Elijah visibly shrugged, puzzling her even further.

“And yet you’ll be able to handle it. I trust you. You’ve come a long way and you’ll know which path to take now.”

Zowie sighed.

“I should hate you.” She said, her voice laced with frustration.

“But you don’t.” Elijah defied her with a cheeky smile. Then, sobering up, he added. “I really trust you, Zowie. You will do the right thing. Just… don’t close any doors when you still have a chance, okay? You deserve to be happy.”

At those words, Zowie stared at her friend’s face on the screen for a long time, and although she knew she should be mad at him, the feeling vanished a second later. Elijah was right. She had to give this a chance, had even promised Orlando she would when accepting his offer to visit her some time. No one said it would be easy, though. Saying goodbye to her friend, Zowie finally closed her laptop and stared outside her window. Perhaps this was the time to close what had begun eight years ago. True to her word, she would give it a try. Zowie only hoped that, in the process, her heart didn’t end up as badly damaged as it had in the past. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8.**

_“In the twist of separation_

_You excelled at being free._

_Can’t you find a little room for me?”_

**_Take That – Back For Good_ **

 

Zowie’s office wasn’t only the place where she did most of the bureaucratic part of her job, it was also where she spent lots of her time planning activities, meeting people, and feeling safe as she pondered on a future where a job such as this was a distinct possibility. That day, however, the peace and tranquillity she usually felt there were long gone.

It had been two days since she had had that revealing talk with Elijah, one that had turned her safe world upside down. It never ceased to amaze her, truly, what a decidedly big influence some men had in her life. William, Orlando, Elijah… they all had the ability to make drastic changes in her life with just a few words. Not that what Elijah had said was entirely bad; it’s just that facing what he had told her meant facing a fact Zowie had nurtured for years, but that now that seemed a reality, she had no idea how to deal with.

Did Orlando truly still have feelings for her? Was that the reason why he had come to Prescott? Leaning back on her chair, Zowie stared off into the distance, her hand doing what had become a reflexive, unchecked gesture of hers over the years: her fingers, long and slim, began to tug and toy with the paua shell of her bracelet. Once, in a birthday long ago, Zowie had received all kinds of presents from her loved ones. Some had joined her in her adventure to a new life in America, but out of all those that she had brought along, only the bracelet had survived. The custom made sword her parents had given her, along with the earrings and necklace her grandmothers had presented her with, had met a disastrous fate in Matt’s hands and she never expected to see them again. The bracelet, however, had been a witness to her ups and downs. It was scratched in some places and showed scars of adventures both good and bad in others, but Zowie imagined it matched her soul, which too surely showed the signs of everything she had gone through. But above all, it was a symbol that joined her irrevocably to Orlando.

The questions that had flitted across her mind earlier returned to her. What if what Elijah had said two days ago was true? If that was the case, if her friend wasn’t exaggerating or trying to trick her into anything, then Zowie had to sit down and re-evaluate things she had considered true for a long time. For three years she had convinced herself that there was no other way for them, and that what had once existed between her and Orlando, along with his feelings for her, had turned bitter and dark with time. Was there any other way? How couldn’t Orlando be sad? How couldn’t he be disappointed, how couldn’t he hate her, even? Hell, Zowie would hate herself, had she been in his shoes.

But maybe she had been wrong all along. While a part of her was delighted she might be proved wrong, another had no idea how to deal with that feeling. Those past two days had seen her going over and over so many things in her mind, she was almost dizzy with the velocity at which they spun.

The phone on her desk rang, taking her out of her reverie. It was a welcome interruption, for although Zowie had countless of papers before her and things that needed to be read over and revised, she didn’t think she had it in herself to do anything productive that day. Letting out a quick sigh of relief, she took the wireless receiver to her ear.

“Yes?”  
“Hi, Zowie… Rita here.” The female voice said on the other end. Located at the front desk, Rita had been the one being replaced the day Zowie found Orlando in her office. In her early forties, she might have been a bit on the tiny side, but she could be formidable when someone tried to break the rules during her shift. Nothing like the new administrative, Zowie mused with a sardonic arc of her eyebrow.

“Hi, Rita. What can I do for you?” As she spoke, Zowie began to flip through the papers on her desk in one last desperate attempt to get some work done that morning.

“There’s someone here who wants to see you, a certain Mr. Bloom?”

Zowie’s every movement stilled at the mention of his name. He was here? Again? Her heart began to thud in her chest in response to what the sole mention of his name did to her. Some place in her mind, Zowie had begun to believe Orlando would never show up again. That Elijah was wrong, and that he didn’t feel a thing for her anymore. Knowing he was at the centre, standing in a room a mere ten metres away from her meant so many things, she could hardly think of them all in the span of the few seconds she spent silent.

“Zowie, are you there?”

Drawn back to reality once again, Zowie shook her head, as if to clarify her thoughts.

“Yes, yes, I’m here. Please, send him in.”

That was how things should have gone in the first place, Zowie mused somewhere in her mind as her body became paralysed, awaiting Orlando’s visit. Had things gone according to the rules of the centre, she would have walked into the facilities that day to find him sitting at the waiting room. The shock would have been by no means any less intense, that much she had to admit, but it would have certainly been a change to finding Orlando standing in a place that was pretty much a sanctuary to her, holding in his hands the evidence that told him that, no matter the time that had passed since she had left him, she had never truly forgotten him.

The knock on her office door came much too soon, and found Zowie in the exact same position as before, the phone still in her hand as Elijah’s words echoed in her mind: _“What I’m trying to say here, Zowie, and that you have to understand, is that Orlando would have never bothered taking that plane in the first place if you weren’t important to him in any shape or form”_. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Zowie realised she was just about to find out how right or wrong Elijah was, a prospect that proved to be more scary than she had imagined; for although her feelings for Orlando hadn’t diminished, they had certainly changed and matured along with her, becoming less needy and more independent. Now, losing said independence was what terrified her the most.

“Come in.”

Her voice might have come out strangled, for it had to work its way around the heart that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, but out it came anyway, and when the knob turned, Zowie did the one thing she could do. She took a deep breath, hung up the phone that was still in her hand so it wouldn’t show her shock, and then prepared herself the best she could to face this new challenge. She still loved Orlando, and whether he felt anything for her other than rancour, she would soon find out.

The man that shyly popped his head through the open door, almost as if he were insecure he was actually welcome, took her breath away. Again. Like he had a million times before. Like he would, and Zowie was sure of that, many, many other times in the future. He was the first man she had loved, and the _only one_ she had ever felt that way for. He had been friend and lover, and this terrain they walked on was new, and it was one Zowie would have to tread carefully until she understood its characteristics.

“Hi.”

His voice sounded low and tentative, but hearing it sent Zowie’s heart into a crazy gallop nonetheless.

“Hi. Please, come on in.” She hurried to add when Orlando hesitated by the door. His vacillation lasted for a moment longer, and Zowie didn’t breathe for as long as it did. When he finally took a step inside and closed the door behind him, she emitted a silent sight of relief and motioned him to sit down before her, the desk between them.

Did he feel as uncomfortable as she did? And when had the openness they had once shared disappeared altogether? Had it vanished the moment she packed up her suitcase three years ago? Zowie feared the answer to that last question was a resounding _yes_ , and her heart felt unbearably heavy as she stared at Orlando.

His brown eyes, once so luminous, so unguarded and so full of love, were now cloaked in shadows that concealed his true feelings, and even though Zowie’s own eyes remained dry, her heart wept bloody tears inside her. This was all her doing, she realised. If this had begun the day she left him, how could Elijah possibly be right?

“Can I…?” Orlando began to say, pointing the chair before her. He didn’t finish his statement, and Zowie couldn’t even begin hers. Repeating the motion of her hand from before, she pointed the chair and he sat down, his back straight and stiff.

Every awkward second, every instant full of tension that ticked by, Zowie felt it pounding painfully in her heart. She refused to be caught in the sadness that crept up inside her, but the battle got bloodier and bloodier with every instant. She didn’t want to put Orlando in that place where he had all control over her once again, but it was hard to resist the feeling of guilt that grew inside her at the sight of him. And then Elijah’s words from before… Zowie shifted in her seat, feeling uncomfortable and awkward, and she wondered whether Orlando could see in her the same tension she could feel in him.

That he did. Or were those his own confused feelings, somehow projected to her actions? Orlando watched Zowie shift on her seat, watched her twine and untwine her fingers, even put aside a pile of papers on her desk, all the while avoiding his eyes. When she finally looked up at him, though, his heart skipped a beat. Orlando had spent the past three days arguing with himself whether coming to Prescott had been a good idea or not. Then, when he failed to find an answer for that, he struggled to decide whether he should leave things as they were and fly out in the first flight to England he could find, or whether he should stay. And while all his instincts aimed for the former, he had chosen the latter. Heart over head, he realised.

“How are you?”

His words came out unexpectedly, surprising even Orlando himself. He, who dealt with movie stars and beautiful girls, famous directors and personalities of all sorts, lost his nerve in front of this long-haired, blue eyed woman that suddenly stared at him with such intensity, he was sure she could read his very soul. He might be immune to some aspects of his business by now, but as far as the woman before him was concerned, he lost all his cool. The reasons why? They were something he refused to think about.

What Zowie looked for in his face, Orlando didn’t know, but for a moment, he was incapable of meeting her gaze. Lowering his eyes, he finally raised them up once again when she answered.

“I’m doing well.” She said, and there was a ghost of a smile in those blue eyes he knew so well as she spoke. “Just another day at the office, I suppose. You?”

Her words tipped him off about some information he had been going around in his head since his first visit to the centre. He had pretty much guessed that, for Zowie to have an office there, it meant she wasn’t merely a visitor. What kind of work she did there, though, still remained to be seen.

“I’m good. I hope I’m not interrupting?”

When had they become so distant? Or was it just him that, in his uncomfortable state, put off a vibe so strong, Zowie merely responded to it the same way?

She shook her head, and the hint of a smile that Orlando had seen in her eyes instants before travelled down to her lips, barely quirking one corner.

“Oh, no… Actually, I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get any job done today, so… don’t worry. It’s okay.” Her eyes left his for a while. She seemed to hesitate over something she wanted to say, and after taking a deep breath, she finally added. “In fact, I’m glad you’re here.”

That was Zowie’s last desperate attempt to bring some warmth into a conversation that, albeit polite to exhaustion, had none of the closeness and camaraderie they had once felt. It was a conscious effort on her part for, although confused and lost, she still wanted to make things up to Orlando; if anything, to close that part of her rehab process that was meant to bring her closer to those she had hurt in the past.

What she saw in his face, however, left her feeling even more lost. His eyes widened with shock so much, Zowie could clearly see the rich brown of his irises. And although he recovered quickly and managed to mask his initial confusion, Zowie still got a clear and unspoiled vision of his expression. In the slackening of his mouth and the widening of his eyes, Zowie read the surprise her revelation caused in him. Was he expecting her to be mad at him? Zowie almost shook her head. Why would he do that? _He_ was the one who had the right to be mad at her, not the other way around!

“I am, Orlando.” She stated, her heart behind her every word. “I truly am glad you’re here.”

Did she realise what those words did to him, what her open and happy acceptance of his presence there did to his hammering heart? A heart monitor attached to him in that very same instant would have shown the craziest patterns ever seen. Why was she glad? In those three days, Orlando had never left his hotel room, going over and over every minute they had spent together over the years, trying to find out where he had gone wrong. Had he pushed Zowie away? Had he said something, done something that had spurred her departure? For Zowie to say that she would have never got better by his side was still a rusted and jagged blade twisting in his heart. But a moment later, when her left hand had toyed with the bracelet in the opposite wrist… Orlando’s heart thudded heavily now just by thinking about that fleeting, nearly instinctive action of hers.

That bracelet… his coin… it was as if in some primal way, the universe had refused them to part ways, even if they were indeed apart. No matter what, those two items still remained, standing the test of time, and a bout of emotion so strong it almost drowned him took over Orlando, leaving him thinking he had to find an easy way out to cover his feelings. Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, he spoke softly.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… what kind of a job do you do here?”

Anything to distract him from those emotions he didn’t know how to handle, and to keep her from noticing them, he mused.

At that question, Zowie’s eyes lit up and a soft, yet full smile touched her lips.

“I’m an assistant coordinator of sports and outdoor activities. Sounds a lot fancier than it actually is, mind you, but it’s great. In some way, this is what I’d be doing right now had I got my degree in New Zealand.”

She didn’t notice the two sides of the coin she had just tossed in the air with her comment, but they didn’t go unnoticed to Orlando. Zowie seemed genuinely happy and satisfied with her job; that much he could tell from the gleam in her eye and the smile on her face. But that mention of her truncated future, of what her life should have been, filled his heart with pain and guilt. Had he never crossed her path, Zowie would have never tossed her future away just to follow him around. But then again, had he stayed out of her way, Orlando would have never felt the joy and completion he had felt in Morocco by just having her in his arms, so itt seemed the two sides of the coin also applied to him.

“And what… what do you actually do?” He inquired, repeating himself when the knot in his throat threatened to give him away.

“We basically organise all sorts of physical activities for the kids receiving their treatment here in the centre. Most of them are planned so they build back their confidence in themselves and in others, so they’re all group activities. You become selfish and isolated when you’re an addict, and it’s important they learn to trust others again. We take them out hiking, camping, we make them work in pairs, groups… and it works. I saw that when I was here as a patient, and I was offered this position when I was discharged. It felt like a nice way to give something back, so I couldn’t say no.”

The uninterrupted flow of words took Orlando by surprise. This was the most he had heard Zowie saying since Morocco, and that it was over her work told Orlando how much she loved it, how much it meant to her, and that she felt she owed something to these people for helping her get better. He imagined that, should have he been in her place, he would have felt a rather similar way.

But that wasn’t the only thing it did to him. It was a reminder that, in the time she had been alone in America, Zowie had grown autonomous and independent, and that she could fend for herself. That the rehab treatment she had gone through had, most likely, prepared her psychologically for what she would face in life outside the centre. It was a relief, and it did lift a weight Orlando hadn’t known was on his heart until that very minute, to know that Zowie had grown strong enough in her shoes to handle her own life and her decisions. It was great. It _felt_ great for her.

And yet, at the same time, it raised the biggest wave of dread Orlando had ever felt inside him.

Once, he had been what Zowie needed; had been her entire world. She had thought the sun rose and set on his curly head, but that was no more.

The tables had turned now. It didn’t matter how much it bothered Orlando or how uncomfortable it made him to even admit it to himself; truth was, just thinking about Zowie’s evolution made him realise how much _he_ needed her now. Coming to terms with that wasn’t easy, for it warred with the anger he had felt for so long, but when he realised he wouldn’t leave Prescott no matter how hard a part of him tried to convince him to, it was solely because he couldn’t leave Zowie, not now that he had found her after so long. When he had weighed on the options available for him, and what would make him stay or fly back to England, Orlando had realised that the one reason strong enough to keep him in Prescott was that he needed Zowie. He hated his weakness, but something stronger than him wanted to keep him in Arizona. What that was, Orlando didn’t want to know. He felt he would stay anyway, even if Zowie didn’t need him anymore.

It had never crossed his mind that she might need him in a different way now or that her feelings might have matured along with her; it just scared him that the rules of the game had changed.

“That’s great.” He said, when the confused expression on Zowie’s face told him he had been silent far longer than a civil conversation required. “That’s really great. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well. You deserve it.”

Something in his words sent a light blush creeping up her cheeks, and her eyes lowered for an instant. When she finally looked up, Zowie’s eyes fixed on his in a way that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Thank you. I do enjoy it. But, what about you? How’s your job doing?”

There was a slight warming in her cheeks, and Zowie prayed to God it didn’t become a full blown blush. She didn’t obsessively keep up to date with Orlando’s career, but she did know a thing or two here and there. She focused on his professional life, though, on what she could read in movie magazines or serious websites. The other part of the news, however, the one about his love life, she avoided it like the plague since she realized reading about the string of girls reputedly linked to him made her sick to her stomach.

That was how she had found out that _“Kingdom of Heaven”_ hadn’t done as well as expected, which had filled her with guilt at the time. It had taken her many hours with Rebecca to understand that there were far too many factors involved in making a movie a success or a flop and none of them, not a single one of them, had anything to do with a sword fighting assisting coach leaving the filming halfway through. She did wonder, though, if her departure had had some effect on Orlando’s performance.

“It’s good. I’m even going to do some theatre this summer.”

When Zowie’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered, she didn’t bother hiding the signs of her joy. She hadn’t heard about that, but she was as happy for his achievement as if it were her own.

“Really? That’s great! I’m so happy for you!”

And she wasn’t lying. She was indeed happy and full of joy for what she considered had to be a good career move. Not just that, it could also mean a change that might open new doors for him, for as far as she was concerned, he deserved them all.

For the first time since she had barged into her office to find him standing there, did Orlando sketch a tiny, almost hesitant smile. The corners of his lips moved upwards in a movement that was barely visible to the eye, but Zowie had been studying him with such devotion, it was impossible for her to miss it. Such a gesture, no matter how small, warmed her heart and made her think that maybe, just maybe, not everything was lost.

Orlando thanked her, and a moment of awkward silence followed. It stretched unbearably, and the sudden lightness of moments ago seemed to have vanished in the air, taking along all the good intentions they had managed to muster. While Zowie tried to come up with a safe topic of conversation, Orlando struggled to control the one question that eagerly waited to leave his lips. Seeing her so happy for his achievement had triggered in his heart all the questions he had intended to spit at her on their first meeting, but that had been drowned by the intensity of his feelings. They resurfaced now, but with far less intensity. Nonetheless, he couldn’t hold them back this time.

“Why, Zowie? Why did you have to leave? Why did you have to disappear like that, without a trace? Do you have any idea how that has made me feel all these years?”

Once the words began to come out, it was impossible for Orlando to stop them or simply try to control their flow. How could he? They had been in his heart and soul for so long, had circled his mind so many nights in the past years, that it didn’t matter if suddenly letting them roll out made him come across as weak. What he needed right now were answers, words that made sense of the grief he had gone through, and he needed them in that instant!

Zowie sighed heavily, and although she felt disheartened by the sudden change in the conversation, she had to admit that she was hardly surprised by any of it. If anything, and to be honest with herself, she had been expecting it. In fact, that was one of the reasons the past couple of days had been ones of deep introspection; because she had known that she would have to face these questions sooner or later the moment Orlando entered her life once again. Because out of all the people involved in her past, he was the one with the most right and reasons to ask for whatever answers he needed.

“Have you ever heard what _pulling a geographics_ is, Orlando?” He looked every bit as puzzled as he surely felt, and Zowie took pity on him. Obviously, the answer was no. “That’s a term that’s used a lot in the addiction recovery process. When you _pull a geographics_ , that means you’re changing the scenery around you so you don’t really have to change yourself. Meaning you leave the place you know so you can carry on begin an addict without anyone forcing you to change.” She paused, giving Orlando the chance to say anything. He seemed to be absorbing what she had just said, so Zowie went on. “That’s what I did when I left New Zealand. Brooke had found out that I was doing drugs, and it was a matter of time until someone in my family did too, so instead of facing my demons and admitting that I had a problem, admitting that I was mad as hell with my dad and telling him exactly what I thought of him, I ran away. I changed scenery. I decided to go to a place where no one knew me and no one could make me face my issues, so that’s how I chose Los Angeles.”

Taking a deep breath to steady her suddenly pounding heart, she carried on.

“But when I left Ouarzazate, it was for a very different reason. I wasn’t running from my demons anymore – I was facing them. I was looking at them straight in the eye. You surely don’t remember, but you once told me that I had to be strong for myself. That you, my parents, Geoff, _anyone_ could ask me to get better and be strong, but that it would ultimately work out only if I did it for myself, so that was what I did. For the first time, I went away to solve my problems.”

Orlando’s eyes shone when he looked at her, and Zowie found herself wondering if that was caused by unshed tears, a thought that made her heart lurch.

“But why did you never tell me anything?”

His words were soft, and while her heart had been affected by his expression, his tone, his voice, made it bleed inside her.

“First of all, because I couldn’t bring any more problems upon you. You were willing to fight anything and anyone to bring me back to the movie, and that wasn’t going to happen. I felt so guilty…” Zowie’s voice trailed off because, deep down inside, she still felt that way for surely ruining what should have been the most gratifying experience in Orlando’s career. Looking up at him, she added. “I’m sorry for all the troubles I caused. That’s precisely why I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t have you trying to fly halfway around the world whenever you had a break just to be with me, and I couldn’t stay in Morocco. I needed to find myself, the real me, you know? The one I had hidden somewhere deep inside me so you would like me, so you would stay by my side.”

The look on Orlando’s face was first of such confusion and finally of such utter pain, that Zowie gasped when she realised how her words had come across. Hurriedly, she pointed out.

“It’s not that you cancelled me, Orlando. It’s not that you brought me down or didn’t let me be myself. It’s just that I didn’t allow that part of me to see the light because I was afraid that, should I do it, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. And in that moment of my life, I needed you like I needed air in my lungs. But it wasn’t right. I only valued myself because you did, how can you expect to have a normal relationship with someone who feels that way? You made me deliriously happy, but… how long could that last if I kept hiding my problems? It would have got out sooner or later and I swear to God, I didn’t want to hurt you in any way. I had already messed up your life enough, I couldn’t ruin the movie for you as well.”

“Don’t you think that was my decision to make, whether you’d ruined anything or not? And what did you think you did all these years, leaving me not knowing whether you were even alive?” The words left Orlando’s mouth with such violence, Zowie blanched before his eyes, her shoulders slumped and her eyes, wide on him, glazed with the unmistakable sheen of unshed tears. The sight sent a knife through his heart but he remained strong, unwavering in his determination. _He_ had suffered three years of pain and uncertainty. _He_ had lived in constant wonder and fear, not knowing whether she was even alive in the first place. How many nights had he spent wondering where she was, how she was, whether another abusive bastard like Matt had wormed his way into her life? That pain had morphed into anger, and Zowie’s tears wouldn’t change Orlando’s mind or deviate it from its true intentions. They might pain him and overwhelm him with guilt, but he clung onto that grief he had suffered until mere weeks ago, drawing strength from it to carry on. “You were doing well. We were together. _At last._ Wasn’t that what you wanted? Wasn’t that what you had been after for so long? You’d improved, Zowie! You were a scared little mouse when I met you in LA, and by the time we were in Morocco, you were a different, much stronger person. You were doing _well_.”

The way Orlando spat that last word, venomously, accusatorily, awoke the guilt inside her, doubling it over and over again until it would have burst out of her seams, had she had any. But that same overwhelming guilt awakened another emotion inside her that she would have never imagined she would feel in a moment such as this: anger.

“I wasn’t doing _well_ , Orlando… I was feeling like crap!”

Zowie tried her earnest to keep her voice down and not cause a scandal at work, but it was harder than she’d ever imagined. She’d been mad at Orlando before, yet, every single time, said anger had been born from pain: the time he’d ditched her after her football final to go out with that blonde, that first night together and the grief that had torn her heart to pieces. Now it was different. Now Orlando was being unfair with her, and she might have lowered her head and ignored it before, but not anymore; she had come much too far to let that happen again. She’d learnt to fight for her feelings, to understand they were as valid as anyone else’s, and no matter how much she still loved Orlando or how much she might regret it later, she wasn’t going to allow it. Not from anyone else, but above all, not from him. Their relationship hadn’t worked in the past because she’d always given in, because she hadn’t valued herself enough, always putting him in the first place. Not anymore. If he didn’t feel anything for her, then it might as well be the right thing to simply sever all bonds and carry on with her life. Even if it killed her inside.

“I never felt _well_ in all the time I spent in Morocco. I always put you in the first place, above everything and everyone else, always putting myself last. Myself, my needs, my health, my sanity… they all took a back seat so I’d keep _you_ by my side. Is it your fault? No, it’s entirely _my_ fault. But tell me, how is that _well_? How can you think it was even the sane thing to do?”

Was Orlando shocked? Yes. Was his face the picture of disbelief and astonishment at her tirade? Hell, yes. Did Zowie feel good about the hint of pain she could see beginning to rise in his dark eyes? By any means, no. But something inside her surely was pleased that she had spoken her mind for the first time in so long. And yet, she had said so little that suddenly words struggled to spill from her lips.

“Why did you never tell me anything about it, then? If it was so bad for you, so hard, then why didn’t you ever even mention it? I was always there for you, Zowie… was I such a lame boyfriend you couldn’t share those things with me?”

Zowie took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then released it with a long and steady flow of air, hoping it would ease the thumping of her heart. For a moment, she had a fleeting memory of the panic attacks she used to have in the past. She hadn’t had one in a long time, and she was sure as hell not going to have one now. Why? Because back in the day she’d been terrified; now she was just plain angry.

Fixing her blue eyes on his brown ones, she spoke, her voice tight and controlled.

“I just didn’t know how. I had spent years locked up inside myself and I simply didn’t know how to get out. That’s why I needed help. _Professional_ help, Orlando. You were great, you understood, but you didn’t know how to bring me out of that shell I had constructed around myself. You didn’t have to, either, because it wasn’t your job. You could have supported me through this, yes. You could have been here for me, but it wouldn’t have worked. You need to understand that I needed to find myself, to _know_ myself before I could be a hundred per cent comfortable in a relationship. And I mean in any relationship, Orlando, for that included the one with my family, not just the one I had with you. You made me see that.”

Orlando scoffed at that, and the posture he assumed in his chair – leaning back, elbows on the padded arms, fingers laced together as his lips twisted in a mocking gesture – was derisive and plainly aggressive.

“Oh, really? And how was that, tell me? Was it my incredible understanding what made you see that? Or was it just what an awesome boyfriend I made for you back then that brought this realization to you?”

Zowie didn’t like his words, and her instincts, the old ones that were still alive inside her, begged her to retaliate. Thankfully for her and for Orlando, she had learnt to master those impulses. That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t tell Orlando the truth. She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want this to escalate and get out of control, but he needed to know one or two things before he judged her so freely.

“Actually, it was none of that. All it took was you being a pain in the ass and refusing to see my point to make me understand what I had to do.”

Whatever Orlando had been ready to say died on his lips at her remark, and Zowie felt a tiny flicker of perverse pleasure kindling inside her at the sight. She stifled it before long, though; she did love this man after all, and revenge was one of the things that had led her to end up in Arizona in the first place. To be honest, she just was pleased to have stripped him of his smug façade if only for a while.

“Your point? When did I refuse to see it? That night…” A heavy, poignant silence fell between them, and both Zowie and Orlando looked away from each other for the first time in a long while. They had been so engrossed in their argument, they hadn’t noticed they had got as close as the desk between them allowed, and that the previous awkwardness had vanished. The mention of that one night together three years ago, however, brought it back with a vengeance. Orlando swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving almost convulsively. “When we talked, I understood. I saw what you were trying to say. You made your point come across and I got it. What are you talking about?”

Trying to ease some of the awkwardness that still clung in the air between them, Zowie leaned back on her chair and took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on him as if nothing had happened when, in reality, her every sense was on high alert.

“I’m not talking about that night.” She said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the fluttering of her heart as the memories of what they had shared crossed her soul. “I’m talking about later. After I was fired. It was my last night in Ouarzazate, remember? You tried to convince me to go to your house and spend the night there with you, but I just couldn’t go. It was when you wouldn’t understand that I simply couldn’t put you in any more trouble.” Pausing for a second, Zowie then added. “And while you couldn’t see that I was trying to protect you, that I was doing this for you, I finally saw you as the flawed human being that you are. It’s not that I’m flawless. I wasn’t disappointed either, it just… it made see you the way you truly are: a human being with flaws. It also made me see it was high time I faced my own flaws too.”

Orlando’s eyes, suddenly void of all anger and aggravation, fixed themselves on Zowie, and the question in them, the raw emotion his previous rage couldn’t conceal anymore, shook her to her core.

“Were those flaws so bad, Zowie? Was _I_ so bad I couldn’t be around you while you tried to get better?” Orlando swallowed once again and his eyes left hers for a brief instant. He took a deep breath, as if stealing himself to say something that had been in his mind for too long, but that he had never dared to voice before. “Was it my fault? Was I the one that got you into drugs?”

When Zowie looked at him with shock glowing in her clear blue eyes, Orlando felt the knot in his throat almost smothering in its tightness. He needed to know. The question had been going around in his head ever since that night in Ouarzazate when Zowie had bared her soul to him, ever since the moment she had shared with him what had happened in Wellington so long ago, in a night he could barely remember. A night that, whenever he thought he had fleeting memories of, he had to argue with himself whether they were indeed snapshots of a real moment that had actually happened, or a creation of his imagination to compensate for those memories he wasn’t sure of having. The thought that his reckless actions, that his unaware stealing of what should have been a magical, romantic, perfect moment for her, haunted him as much as the possibility that it might have brought her the hell she had gone through. He _had_ to know. What he didn’t know, however, was what he would do if the answer was a simple and rotund _yes_.

When Zowie sighed and her eyes left his, Orlando’s heart hammered against his ribs. The answer was _yes_. It had to. Why else would Zowie look so defeated, deflated, as if what she had to admit tore her to pieces inside? The thought rose conflicting emotions inside him. Why would she feel that way? Some of the previous anger returned, making Orlando feel rather schizophrenic. She had left out of her own volition. Never had he even hinted he didn’t want her around. Why would she look that way, if she wasn’t about to admit his accusations were true? If she did, if she proved he had been right all along, Orlando was ready to stand up and leave, never taking a single look back; he couldn’t allow himself having his heart broken for a second time.

When Zowie finally looked up, the unmistakable sheen of unshed tears made her eyes glitter like blue diamonds under the bright overhead lights.

“How can you possibly say that, Orlando?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it still carried every ounce of the grief that troubled her heart. “You have to understand… no one ever made me take drugs. No one ever forced me to, not even that guy who gave me that first ecstasy pill in Wellington. I always had the option, and the final choice was mine. It was up to me to say yes or no, and I said yes every single time. I had no reasons to start taking drugs, I had excuses. And I had them all, believe me.”

Zowie sounded so adult, so rational about this topic, that Orlando was thrown off balance by this woman before him. He had caught a glimpse of who she could become when she admitted her issues in Morocco, but the Zowie that sat before him, obviously in so much pain but at the same time so clear minded, was a novelty he had to get used to. The needy, clingy girl from before was gone, and along with her autonomy and independence, she made a woman Orlando wasn’t sure he knew how to handle.

Stubbornly, he nevertheless held on to his point of view.

“But you were in so much pain…”

Zowie sketched a tiny, little smile at that.

“Pain, Orlando? There are always plenty of ways to deal with the pain. Talking about it, sharing it with others, putting in words what terrifies you so much… but running away? That’s not one of them. It can never be. When you run away from what scares you the most, you make the wrong decisions and I learned that the hard way.”

Her words sank in, and the wonder he felt at her behaviour grew to new levels. Nonetheless, he still needed to know.

“I still caused you a lot of pain. What I did to you… I should have been aware. I should have never stolen your first time from you so carelessly. It should have never happened.”

Zowie’s eyes darkened when a sad shadow fell over them.

“You mean… you would have never slept with me, not even had you been sober?”

For the first time since he had re-entered her life, a hint of a wistful smile played on Orlando’s lips, causing a slight flutter in her heart. His eyes drifted from hers.

“I didn’t know it back then… Actually, I didn’t _want_ to know it.” Orlando amended. “But I wanted you from the very moment we met. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it because I was too immature and too selfish to deal with it, but deep down inside, I wanted it to happen. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have come to happen, not even if I was drunk.” Looking up at her, he added. “I just wish I hadn’t been out of my mind. You deserved more for your first time. You deserved someone who was there for you a hundred per cent, not just a drunk, passed-out idiot.”

The light fluttering of her heart became a full-on thumping, for his words meant more that she had ever dared to imagine when their conversation took a turn for the ugly. She had been so afraid to find out he had only slept with her because of his inebriation, that finding out her fears didn’t have a reason to live filled her with relief. This honesty… she liked it. She liked being open with him, not having to conceal any more things from him, and that he reciprocated only made the feeling even better.

“Whatever pain I felt back then now belongs in the past, Orlando. Once I started talking about it and sharing it with others, it lessened. I still think most of it was self-inflicted because I just couldn’t open up, but the pain I caused you…” Zowie took a deep breath, her eyes focusing on his. “You know that asking forgiveness to those we’ve hurt is part of our recovery process, right? Even if it wasn’t, I’d still like to tell you how sorry I am. I truly am. I still think I did it with your best interests in mind, but forgive me… please.”

The knot in Orlando’s throat managed to smother him for a few seconds at her words. Nothing would erase what he had lived in the past three years, but her humility, the way she admitted her mistakes… it got to him. He tried to speak, but the knot didn’t allow him to; it barely allowed enough air into him. He nodded, and the tension in her shoulders eased at his gesture.

“We both felt so much pain, Orlando… I’m sure we still do.” She added. “But I need you to understand that I did it for me as much as I did it for you. If I started taking drugs, it was solely because I was a chicken, and because taking a pill made dealing with issues a lot easier, or so it seemed. But you told me something once. Remember when you told me I enjoyed feeling miserable?” The look of utter shame in Orlando’s face told her he remembered that particular moment as clearly as Zowie herself did. “You were right. I was hiding behind drugs. I was desperately crying for help because I couldn’t deal with my issues on my own, and because I wasn’t strong enough to do such thing. That was one of the things that pushed me into finally getting into rehab. I couldn’t keep on hiding the dirt under the rug! I couldn’t go on pretending I was better and recovered and drag you down with me. I couldn’t hurt you anymore, I couldn’t go on like that. I know it might not make much sense to you now, but I can only hope that, in time, you’ll understand my reasons.”

All pretence of anger, of being offended by her and her words… it all vanished inside Orlando. He, however, couldn’t let them go of things so easily, and stubbornly clung to the last thread of conflictive emotions he felt somewhere inside him. He understood Zowie, could see where she came from and deep down inside a part of him saw things her way, but another one, the one that had led him to Arizona fuelled by anger and sadness, refused to let go so easily.

And yet, he couldn’t let it win. Zowie had given him some of the answers he needed and, in the process, had showed him how big his own part had been in that whole mess. She adamantly insisted that he wasn’t to blame for her addiction, but Orlando doubted he would ever get rid of that certainty, just like he disliked being pointed out about that horrible moment when he had accused her of being masochistic, but it was there, and he would never forget it. He still had the feeling that, although much more open and mature than ever before, he was only scratching at the surface of this new Zowie.

“Look, I… I came here determined to get the answers I wanted. The answers I _needed_. And I got them. It’s just that they’re not exactly what I thought I’d hear.” He said. Rubbing his face with his hands, he stared at her in silence for a long while before finally adding. “Honestly, Zowie, I don’t know what to do next. I was furious when Lij brought you up that night in London that I could have crossed the Atlantic Ocean on a raft just to stand in front of you and demand some answers. I wanted to lay all the blame on you. In fact, I did.” His voice sounded earnest now. “But I never saw my own share of blame in it. Or actually I did, but never wanted to acknowledge it completely. I… it won’t be easy. In fact, I have no idea what I’ll do once I leave this office, because a part of me wants to run away from my responsibilities in this, but at the same time… I don’t want to.” Staring straight into her eyes, Orlando let himself do the one thing he had told himself would never do again in front of Zowie: he let his guard down and allowed to her see every bit of his vulnerability. “Honestly, Zow, I have no idea what to do.”

The way Orlando’s voice sounded when he called her like that, _Zow_ , like he had done so many times in the past, the way he had exposed his true feelings of confusion and pain, got to her like not many things could in that instant. Zowie could tell that Orlando was angry and lost, but the fact that a part of him wanted to stay was like the light at the end of the tunnel. God knew she too had her own reservations, but she remembered something Elijah had said to her: that she deserved to be happy. She felt contented with her life as it was, but she needed more. She didn’t want to go as far ahead as to think what could happen if Orlando stayed in Prescott, but she did nurse the thought of righting whatever wrongs she had made. Making things up with him might as well be the first step to closing what had started in Wellington eight years ago.

“I’m no better than you.” She finally said, a tiny little smile tickling her lips. “But I do know that I’d like to make things up with you, and the only way I can do such thing is with you here. I won’t ask anything from you you’re not willing to give, but… I’d love to have you around. There are many things we need to talk about. Things we need to straighten out.”

Orlando stared at her, and their eyes locked for a long time without them saying a thing. Their thoughts, however, were plainly written in blue and brown as they stared at each other.

“I will.” Orlando finally said, his voice low and husky. Standing up, he looked down at her, and Zowie swore she could see the hint of a smile on those lips she knew like her own. “I’ll be in touch.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9.**

Confusion was the most prominent emotion out of the many that populated Orlando’s heart as he walked out of Zowie’s office, quietly closing the door behind him.

 _Zowie’s office._ That sole concept, those two little words and the idea that accompanied them baffled him, speaking volumes of the level of wonder inside him. Had he got the answers he had come looking for? Some of them, Orlando mused as he slowly walked down the long corridor that led to the reception area of the centre. And yet, regardless of the answers he had received, more questions arose in his mind and heart. The biggest one, however, the one he couldn’t deafen no matter what, was simple: what had just happened in there? Orlando had come ready and armed to demand the explanations he had craved for during three years but, when had he surrendered and stopped asking for them? And why?

Orlando stopped in his tracks as he tried to put some much needed order to the chaos in his mind. He had been so sure that visiting Prescott and Zowie would put an end to his misery, that now that he had found something completely different, it felt as if the world had dropped from beneath his feet. His determination had been there, it had been building up and up since that first meeting with Zowie, but the moment he stood before her once again… she’d disarmed him. That was the only explanation he could find for what had happened in her office. Orlando hadn’t seen her in three years, how could he be expected to act as if nothing had happened? As if seeing her alive and well didn’t do a single thing to him? Or that just having her before him, as beautiful as the day he had met her affected him more than he dared to explain?

Or was it because, even after all those years of convincing himself that he felt nothing for her, Orlando still loved Zowie?

Running his fingers through his curls, Orlando sighed heavily. It wasn’t easy to conciliate the ideas he had been nursing since Zowie’s departure – his feelings of anger, desolation, grief and even revenge, at the very end – with those he felt in that instant. Because half the time he had spent sitting in that chair in front of Zowie? In all honesty, all he had been able to think of was jumping over her desk to kiss her like he had imagined doing during so many lonely nights; nights when the company beside him felt empty and hollow. The other half of the time, Orlando had been struggling not to let his frustration get the best of him and spit out all the offensive and hurtful things he had stored for her, the feeling of emptiness and hollowness having become endless pits of anger and heartbreak.

The hand that had raked through his curls was joined by its companion, and together, they rubbed his face as he resumed walking with slow, heavy steps. The proof that he had drastically changed Zowie’s life was all around him, in those very same walls that now surrounded him, but the evidence of how much _she_ had changed his own life? It was deep inside him, in the turmoil he felt and in that tight ball of piercing pain and overwhelming joy that grew incessantly within him. A part of him wanted to let it go, and yet the other clung stubbornly to it. Sadly, none of the options available seemed to work for him.

He had to leave that place, find some other one where he could clear his mind, and do it fast. With that in mind, his steps gained speed, reaching the reception area in a matter of seconds. Ducking his head, for the last thing he wished was to be recognised, Orlando headed for the door. The room seemed to be quite empty and calmed at that time of the day, and only the voices of what seemed to be a couple of women reached his ears. Out of the periphery of his eyes and with his gaze fixed on the floor, Orlando spotted the door a few feet away. Only a few more steps and…

“Mr. Bloom? Excuse me!”

No, no, no! Orlando couldn’t handle a civil conversation now. He couldn’t handle _any_ conversation, period! Resuming his previous actions after a brief, almost unnoticeable halt, he hurried away.

“Mr. Bloom, please!”

He could have ran away, but the moment a soft hand posed itself on his arm, the manners his mum had worked so hard to instil in him kicked in. Sighing with frustration, Orlando abandoned his intentions of running away, not without cursing the inopportune person as he did. If it turned out his attempted escape had been thwarted by someone with frivolous intentions only, Orlando had the feeling he would forget all manners and give that person an idea or two about places where they could go for annoying him that way.

When he raised his eyes, however, what he met was not exactly what he had expected to see. Staring at him from above glasses that were perched low on her nose, was a woman in her fifties, eyes clear and with only a hint of questioning on them.

“Mr. Bloom?” She said, before offering him a hand. “Rebecca Selman. I’m Zowie’s counsellor. Or used to be, actually. Can I have a word with you? I won’t take long, I promise.”

Now _that_ piqued his interest. He still wanted to leave that place and clear his mind as quick as possible, but the possibility of finding the answers he still needed was too powerful to ignore.

There was a slight hesitation as Orlando shook the woman’s hand, but the firm grip that enveloped his own was, in some odd way, tranquilising. It was a short gesture and Rebecca didn’t linger, instead nodding towards a corridor that went on the opposite direction of Zowie’s office before promptly releasing his hand.

“This way, please.”

There was a fleeting moment, as Orlando followed the counsellor down the corridor, that made him feel like a young boy walking behind the school principal to receive a good tell off in his office. Was that how this was going to be? Was that what Rebecca Selman planned, to scold him for what he had done? Question was, what had he done, exactly? And how much did Rebecca know? Orlando shook his head. What a silly, silly question. What did Rebecca know? Everything, surely. She was Zowie’s counsellor, after all, and he did have quite an important part in what had brought her to that centre in the first place. A heavy, long sigh escaped Orlando when the woman before him opened a door labelled with her name. He had come looking for answers. What he hadn’t expected, however, was to be faced with his own role in that whole mess. In a way, he could now understand why Zowie had done what she had done in the past.

“Please, sit down.” Rebecca said, holding the door open for him. Orlando stepped into the office quickly and cast a glance around, admiring the furniture but, above all, the view the window offered him. He was just beginning to get acquainted with Prescott, but the peaceful and quaint atmosphere could have easily had a soothing effect on him, hadn’t he been so tense and so tightly wound by the whole situation. When Rebecca waved in the direction of the sofa overlooking the sight of the mountains that surrounded Prescott, Orlando took a seat, his eyes fixed on the Thumb Butte as if staring at it would magically help him get rid of all his doubts and questions.

“Lovely view, isn’t it?” Rebecca said as she sat down. “Although the play of the seasons on the mountains is breath-taking, I still prefer them covered in snow. I’ve located that sofa there because the view seems to inspire people, relax them… It helps them open up, talk more easily. Zowie in particular is transfixed with the view. She says that, in some ways, it reminds her of New Zealand.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Orlando’s eyes left the mountain in the distance, turning to the woman before him. He had been around counsellors at one time or another, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with their approaches and tactics.

“I see you don’t like wasting time, Mrs. Selman.” He said, making himself more comfortable in the sofa; he had the feeling he was going to be there for quite some time.

“Please, just Rebecca.” Said the woman, waving off the respectful address with a polite, yet friendly expression on her face. “And no, I don’t usually waste much time. Most of the cases here demand I act quickly and effectively, so I believe that is the best method, and it has always worked so far. And you and I, Mr. Bloom, I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

“Orlando.” He amended. Nodding, Rebecca stood corrected.

“As you can imagine, Orlando, Zowie and I have talked many, many times in the past. We still do, in fact, every once in a while. You see, any recovery process from an addiction requires a great deal of talking and sharing, and especially, of opening up and telling the things that have been hidden for a long time. Usually, when kids arrive in the centre, they refuse to do such thing, at least at first. Zowie, however, was different. She was ready to talk. She needed to, even. She had many things to say, and I’m willing to bet so do you right now, so I thought I could be of service.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Orlando broke eye contact with Rebecca for a few seconds. Did he have things to talk about? Sure he did! Did he need some guidance as he tried to make sense of the mess he was in? Of course. Did he _feel_ like talking to a total and complete stranger? Orlando sighed. Not really, but he was already sitting in that office, and a part of him was still convinced he could get some answers in the meantime.

“I appreciate it, Rebecca, but you have to understand that I’m in a complicated position here.”

“If confidentiality is what concerns you, I can assure you that nothing that is said here will ever leave these walls. I don’t even share the finer points of my conversations with the patients of the centre with those above me… I merely offer them general pointers as to what’s going on and how to best deal with it. Those kids have awful trusting issues, Orlando, and I can’t make them any worse.” Looking at him in the eye, she then added. “If me talking to Zowie is what bothers you instead, then don’t. Like I said, I will mention nothing. I give you my word.” 

Orlando was trapped. But then again, he had stepped into that office knowing fully well what he was getting himself into, no deceits involved whatsoever. If Rebecca gave him the answers he needed, well… then it might as well be worth the time he spent there. He didn’t like the idea of sharing information so intimate with a complete stranger, but since Zowie might as well have done it already…

“Okay, then.” He said. “What do you want to talk about?”

Rebecca smiled at his words, but it was far from being a patronising gesture.

“It’s not me who has to do most of the talking here, Orlando. It’s _you._ My feelings about this have no importance whatsoever. It’s yours that I’m worried about. It can’t be easy to come here and face Zowie after so long.” Indeed, Rebecca didn’t like beating around the bush; she went straight to the point, even if it made him cringe. That was what made her good at her job, he supposed. “You have every right to ask for whatever explanations you need.” She carried on. “That’s only fair. But you also have to keep in mind that none of this was exactly easy for Zowie.”

A little bubble of anger swelled inside Orlando.

“It wasn’t any easy for me either, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.”

“I’m not trying to imply anything, Orlando. I’m merely stating a fact given what Zowie and I have talked about over the past years. I know what she thinks about it, I know how she feels. What I do not know, however, is your point of view about this, and I’m very interested about it.”

When Orlando stared at her, his lack of trust oozed from his every pore. He didn’t want to be judged, and although she had promised none of what he said would leave that office, he still failed to feel completely at ease.

“How did I feel back then? Angry, disappointed. Cheated. Awfully cheated.” His words were spat with far more strength than intended, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed to Rebecca.

“It’s only natural to feel that way. Zowie has been a part of your life for a long time and have her disappearing like she did couldn’t have been an easy pill to swallow. My question is, though, did you always feel that way? Did you always feel angry and cheated, as you said?”

When Orlando shifted in the sofa and his eyes, which until then had been fixed on her, drifted to the snowy landscape outside the frosted window, Rebecca knew. In all honesty, she hadn’t needed to ask the questions to know the answer; getting people talking, reading their body language, the tone of their voices… that was her job. And Orlando? He could try to pretend and put up all the walls he felt comfortable building around himself, but Rebecca could read him like an open book. The anger was there, yes; but there was a much deeper and stronger emotion that surrounded him like a heavy cloak.

His silence lengthened, saying more than many of his words could. The fingers of one hand raked through the long curls before running down his face, rubbing his eyes in the process. He struggled, and Rebecca could see that. Pain, confusion, hesitation, they all paraded on his handsome yet troubled features as he debated with himself whether to answer her question or not. Long seconds passed, making Rebecca wonder whether he would finally give in under the weight of those things he hadn’t obviously shared with anyone, or whether he would cling to that resentment she could see struggling to take its place first and foremost in his eyes. By the time she arrived in the centre, Zowie had been almost bursting at the seams with need, hoping to share with someone the load she had been carrying on her own for years. Orlando, on the other hand, was a much tougher subject. Rebecca could see he wanted to talk, but whatever was holding him back was much too strong, almost too much for him to deal with.

“No. I didn’t always feel that way.”

Orlando’s words caught Rebecca by surprise, that much he could tell. Hadn’t he been so conflicted, he would have found her reaction perhaps not funny, but amusing at the very least. Surely she had convinced herself that he wouldn’t talk. And he hadn’t wanted to, that was for sure. But something inside him threatened to burst into a million little pieces unless he let it out. A part of him still clung to that fake security that hanging to his old grudges offered him, but another begged at him to move on or, at the very least, share with someone some of the load that had weighed him down since Morocco.

“How did you feel at first, Orlando?” Rebecca asked. “If you didn’t always feel angry, what was it that you felt in the beginning, right after Zowie left?”

In a gesture almost hesitant, as if he regretted sharing such a personal piece of information with her, Orlando’s gaze drifted momentarily to the landscape outside before moving slowly back to the counsellor sitting before him.

“Back then, I was torn inside. One day Zowie is there and everything’s perfect and then, the next one, she disappears leaving nothing but a voicemail telling me that her leaving is the better for everyone. The better for _me_. Can you imagine how that made me feel?”

“Tell me.”

Orlando snorted.

“It destroyed me. I felt like the worse bastard that had ever walked this Earth. We had an argument the night before… Zowie now insists it was _that_ what made her leave, that it actually made her see things the way things really were like but, can you imagine how I felt, thinking I had scared her away? That I was incapable of helping her when she needed me the most? I once told her that she was masochistic, that she enjoyed being in pain. It haunted me back then, thinking it could have had anything to do with her decision. It still does, up to this day.”

Rebecca nodded, noting the pain in Orlando’s expression at his admission. It shamed him to have told Zowie such thing; up to that afternoon, sitting in her office, he still regretted having spoken like that. But in a way, Rebecca had to admit that Orlando had been right. Zowie had shielded herself in her pain and had made the most of every minute of it, hoping someone else would rid her of her problems until this young man sitting in front of Rebecca had made her do it herself.

“Why? Wasn’t that what you thought about her at the time?”

Orlando sighed, obviously looking for a way to voice what surely had to be a conflictive answer.

“That doesn’t make me any less horrible for saying it.”

“Perhaps not, but it does make you honest. And believe me, Zowie needed honesty at the time. Brutal honesty, even. Whatever it worked to make her open her eyes and see what she was doing to herself.”

Orlando couldn’t argue with the reason in Rebecca’s words, but it didn’t mean the guilt was any less intense.

“Then I became angry.” He carried on. “When I went back to England, I think it finally sunk in that she wasn’t coming back. That she was gone, for good, and that she had never taken a single look back. I knew somewhere in my mind that she was trying to get better, to heal herself from everything, but I just couldn’t do it. I began to feel mad at her for leaving, for not believing in what we had, up to a point where I thought I could easily begin to hate her.”

Rebecca pinned him with an intense, inquisitive stare.

“Could you?”

Orlando remained silent for a long instant, his eyes never leaving hers until he spoke.

“No.” He said, his voice certain and unwavering. “I tried to pretend that I could, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“And why is that?”

When Orlando stared at her, he knew exactly what Rebecca wanted to hear. He could feel it in his heart, in his bones, the feelings for Zowie as much a part of him as his feelings for his own family, but to admit them, speak them out loud? He couldn’t. Acknowledging those emotions hadn’t died, or that they had most likely been revived by Zowie’s presence, meant accepting so much more than simply that.

Rebecca seemed to read his refusal in his eyes, for she raised a hand in a placating gesture.

“Alright, I understand. I pushed too far and I’m sorry. I just needed to make sure that your presence won’t endanger Zowie in any way.”

At that, Orlando felt a wave of anger rising inside him. He, a danger to Zowie? What on Earth was this woman talking about?

“Look, I know you’re concerned and I know you mean well, but I would never harm Zowie. That thought has never crossed my mind.”

“I know that now, but as you can imagine, my patients’ wellbeing is always first and foremost in my mind. I’m sorry if my worries implied something that could offend you. I truly am.” Rebecca said, her voice calm and soothing; the same tone she used on irate patients. What she said next, however, wasn’t something she said to everyone. In fact, she shouldn’t meddle that much, for it went against every policy she had stuck to over her years in practice, but in the end, Rebecca had the feeling it was the only way things would finally work out. “There are two people, Orlando… two men that could hurt Zowie badly, and they have in the past. One of them is her father. You know exactly what happened with him; Zowie told me you were there in New Zealand at the time. I think I don’t need to tell you who the other man is.”

Orlando looked away, unable to face the intensity of Rebecca’s stare or what her words meant. He didn’t need to ask who the other man was and he would never need to. The one that had led Zowie to drugs, no matter how earnestly she denied it, the one who had stolen her virginity so carelessly, who had left her without a single look back… The man who had accused her of enjoying her suffering… that man was him. 

That hot, searing shame he felt every time the thought crossed his mind filled Orlando with a renewed strength. He had no way of knowing that, but as he thought he would never be able to live down the shame of his actions, his thoughts were travelling a path much too similar to which Zowie’s had taken over the years. His wounded pride urged him to forget about the matter and push for answers, but his heart told him that it might as well be time for him to turn on a new page and maybe, just maybe, ask for forgiveness from Zowie instead of demanding she accepted her mistakes as if he had no part in them.

Rebecca could have smiled, hadn’t she felt the matter at hands was much too serious for that. While Orlando had tried his earnest to remain private and secretive at first, shielding behind his anger and his wounded pride, he wore his heart on his sleeve now, and the emotions that ran rampant inside him showed clearly on his face. The sudden pallor of his bronzed skin, the barely noticeable widening of his eyes that might have gone missing to someone else, but not to her, the way his brown irises lost focus, as if his mind replayed images that were much too vivid despite the years that had passed, they all told a story. Orlando had come to Prescott in anger and that was understandable, but he was beginning to see there was another side to this story, one he had ignored until then. If Rebecca could strengthen that vision, offer him and Zowie a chance to be happy, then she would feel her patient’s treatment was finally over.

“Look, Orlando… I can’t speak for Zowie. I won’t, either. I can’t share with you what she has confided me with over the years, but there are some things I can sure share with you. She has improved a lot. The woman you met today is nothing like the girl that first walked into this office three years ago. She was full of guilt, full of anguish, and she wanted to get better, but she had no idea how. Here at the centre she has regained confidence in herself and has built new skills, but at heart, she still is a vulnerable person.” Rebecca took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Orlando, who now stared back at her with a demeanour that spoke nothing of belligerence. He nodded at her final words to show her that he understood the full meaning of what she was saying. “I have always thought that Zowie was a bird that was plucked from the nest too soon, if you know what I mean. She experienced things at a young age that some of us don’t get to experience in our entire lifetimes. She does have the skills to deal with them now. She has learnt the value of sharing and talking over hiding and keeping her fears to herself, but she could still be hurt. Like you, Orlando.”

When he finally spoke, his words were soft, yet laden with a certainty that impressed Rebecca.

“I never meant to hurt her. I tried to stay away from her in New Zealand to keep myself from doing exactly that. I had no idea that my staying away was only making things worse. When she told me about her first time…” His voice trailed off, thanks to the knot in his throat. “I knew then that I was to blame for everything she had done.”

“You? Why?” Rebecca’s face contorted in a frown of confusion.

“Hadn’t I done that to her, she would have never turned to drugs in the first place.” The way he looked at her, with a matter-of-fact look on his face, spoke volumes of his feelings, surprising Rebecca. “Hadn’t I been so careless, she would have never felt the grief that led her to taking that first pill.”

“Orlando, no one _makes_ an addict take drugs. No one _forces_ them. It’s solely their decision. It’s up to them. If I remember correctly, Zowie told me that there was a moment when she thought of throwing that pill away. She had a chance. There were two paths laid out before her and she chose one. Did you tell her to take that pill?”

Orlando stared at her as if thinking her dumb.

“Of course not.” He finally managed to say after a few seconds.

“Did you offer Zowie the pills she took after that one?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you have nothing to do with this. Zowie’s issues go much further back in time than you appearing in her life. Believe her when she tells you that you have nothing to do with it. You might have caused her pain, yes, and it’s certain that she has suffered for you in the past, but if you keep putting that first and foremost above everything else, you’ll only end up ruining the chance you have made for yourself and for her by coming here. These things, Orlando… these things you are telling me, you should be able to share them with Zowie, and she should be able to share her own with you. Talk to her. Zowie is a good girl, and up to this day, she feels bad for what she did to you. Give her a chance to explain herself. Give _yourself_ a chance to talk freely and most importantly, to feel. You wouldn’t have come all the way here first chance you got if you still didn’t feel something for her. Don’t let all of that go to waste.”

What could he say to that? What could Orlando come up with that wouldn’t sound like a feeble excuse after Rebecca had bared his heart and soul without him saying much? And why that determination that had come with him all the way from England, the one that had driven him here, only grew weaker and weaker with every minute that passed by? Orlando sighed, staring at Rebecca with every bit of the hopelessness he felt inside. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving that certainty behind and embracing the confusion that opening a new door filled him with, but it became more obvious with every step forward he took that it was the only way he could achieve something. Perhaps, he _had_ come here because he wanted to give Zowie a second chance, despite what his angry feelings said. Not that doing it, that opening his heart once again, meant he felt comfortable with the idea.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

_“Can you hear the wind blow_  
_For me and you_  
_Signifyin' changes_  
_We're going through”_

**_Whitesnake – Can You Hear The Wind Blow_ **

The cold wind welcomed him the moment Orlando stepped into the veranda of the Vendome Hotel. He was used to the cold, but the London winter and the Prescott winter… they were two completely different things. For starters, London was near the sea and barely above it. Prescott, on the other hand, was located at 1,600 metres above the sea level. Nestled between the mountains and far away from the mellowing influence of the oceans that bathed the shores of the United States, this small town in Arizona was a change to Orlando’s perceptions; a change he welcomed.

Taking a deep breath that purified his lungs, Orlando then gave his hotel a quick glance over his shoulder. With twenty rooms, the Vendome was a pretty boutique hotel with a historic atmosphere and a feeling of peace that did wonders for Orlando. The owners and those at work there seemed to have noticed his need for privacy from the very day he arrived, and no words of appreciation could ever be enough. Given the season there weren’t many other guests there, so Orlando had the ability to move around without worrying about being seen, and that was why he had decided on that hotel instead of a bigger one. He didn’t care whether his picture ended up online or in a gossip magazine; it wouldn’t be the first time nor the last. What he didn’t want, however, was to bring any attention upon Zowie. He had come here to solve some issues from the past, and until he did, he would much rather keep her out of the paparazzi’s radar.

Thinking of Zowie reminded Orlando of the task at hand… and of the package he held. They were both intimately related, and with a grin that was both nervous and excited, he jogged down the three steps that separated the veranda of the nearly centennial, two-story building from the street and turned left. Casting the hotel a quick look, his smile took on a more calmed air. With verandas on both floors and bricks on the front, that place had become his home for the past weeks, and he felt he could get seriously attached to that quaint establishment… and the equally quaint town.

As he walked northwards down South Cortez Street, the bag that held the package bumped his thigh, and the feeling of it made him realise, almost as if he had been unable to before, of what he was about to do.

Was the truly having dinner with Zowie? And at her apartment, of all things? Two weeks ago, Orlando had been ready to shout how much he loathed her from the top of the tallest roof in town. Now, in that cold February evening, Orlando walked the short distance that separated his hotel from Zowie’s home as if nothing had happened. When had it all changed? He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t still tell her all those things that still wandered somewhere inside his heart – in fact, he was _sure_ that one day they would have to sit down and talk about the so many unresolved issues that still stood between them – but tonight wouldn’t be that night. Orlando had no idea what would happen when he arrived in Zowie’s apartment, but for once, he wasn’t in the mood for confrontation.

His talk with Rebecca had opened his eyes to a different reality he hadn’t truly considered when coming to Prescott. Zowie had tried to tell him in their previous meetings how hard it had been for her to leave, how much it had taken her to do what she had done. It was funny how talking to a third party, someone who hadn’t been directly involved until things were done and over with, had opened his eyes. The resentment was still there somewhere, of course, and that was why the idea of sitting down and talking never quite left his mind, but what Rebecca had said to him had had a bigger impact than she had ever imagined, he was sure of that. Orlando didn’t like putting himself in such a vulnerable position, but had also realised that the only way to work things out would be if he took a step forward. Zowie had opened up. Now he needed to do the same.

And that was why he was on his way to Zowie’s, snuggled up in warm clothes to battle the Prescott winter, a package containing a selection of chocolates bought at a place called _Pralines of Prescott_ bumping against his thigh in a pretty dark green bag emblazoned with the shop’s logo. Usually, when invited over for dinner, Orlando brought a nice bottle of wine, but since Zowie was a recovering addict, he thought that might not be the smartest choice. So, to avoid any awkwardness, he brought her something he knew for a fact that she would love. Hell, he had loved those chocolates himself, and he wasn’t one with a sweet tooth!

The building of the US Post Office loomed at his left as Orlando took West Goodwin Street. With three floors, arches on the ground floor and an elaborated stone façade, the building was strategically located right across the street from the Yavapai County Courthouse, one of the main landmarks of the city. Orlando admittedly hadn’t seen much of Prescott aside from the immediate surroundings of his hotel and the road to and from the centre Zowie worked at, but even in those circumstances, and the ones that had brought him there, he couldn’t deny that the city had a definite charm that pulled at something inside him. It was a peaceful, beautiful place, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what held Zowie there in the first place. A gust of wind blew straight at him, and Orlando shivered, his mind changing if only for the briefest instant about the wonders of Prescott, Arizona. In his benefit, however, Zowie’s apartment was around the corner. And it wasn’t just an expression Orlando would use liberally; she lived, literally, around the corner from where he stood.

A bit of the shock he had felt at finding out where Zowie lived still lingered inside him. When he had called her, wanting to invite her for dinner, she had been surprised at first, which had led him to believe that Zowie hadn’t actually expected to hear from him; at least, not any time soon. Once the shock had died down, though, she had offered to cook for them instead, and although Orlando’s first intention had been to take her some place nice as a peace offering, hoping to cement what would come next, he couldn’t deny that the idea had a certain appeal. With that in mind, he scribbled down her address, but when upon asking at the front desk of his hotel whether it was far enough to take his rented car there or not, the woman had smiled. _“That’s less than half a mile away,”_ she had said, and Orlando was sure that, when her smile widened, it was due to the obvious astonishment written all over his face. So there he was now, crossing over Granite Creek and heading quickly to South McCormick Street, a part of him marvelling at the sight of a creek in the middle of an urban space, the other growing more nervous with each step he took.

Hadn’t he been wearing the woollen beany he had chosen both to guard off the cold and in an effort to come across as inconspicuous as possible, the gust of wind that hit him square on the face would have been far more unpleasant. Suddenly longing for the warmth of an enclosed space, Orlando hurried his steps, his feet taking him toward the small elevation of Zowie’s street. He looked around, and the sight of the trees, although bare and leafless now in February, told him that they must make quite a sight in spring and summer. He knew how much Zowie loved nature and how badly she had missed the green of Wellington while in Los Angeles, so he wondered if having nature in the shape of trees and a creek across the street didn’t make a powerful incentive for her to stay in Prescott. A tiny, little doubt nibbled at a corner of his heart. If that place fulfilled a need so well, would that mean Zowie wouldn’t be likely to leave Arizona behind?

And where had that thought come from, anyway? Orlando scolded himself. He hadn’t come to Prescott to take Zowie away! True, he seemed to lose some of his original intent with every minute he spent in that place, but that didn’t mean he would go all soft and forget everything he had felt until then. He was just... putting them on hold for a little while. He and Zowie deserved a second chance, so tonight he was willing to bury the hatchet. But just for tonight.

Crossing the street, Orlando stopped in his tracks to give the three-story condo a long, thorough look. It was built on an uneven patch of terrain, which forced the design to be split in four sections, all joined, but following the inclination of the land. The outside stairs, painted of a dark green, added a splash of colour to the off white paint of the walls, and the grounds around it, although taken up mostly by a decently sized car park, were very well taken care of. He spotted several family cars parked there, and hadn’t it been so cold outside, and almost dinner time, Orlando was sure he would have seen quite a few kids playing here and there.

The sight of it, the well-manicured grounds, the family atmosphere, how well taken care of the whole condo was… the combination got him sighing with relief, having freed himself from a burden of dread he hadn’t known he carried until then. What had he expected? Orlando shook his head slightly, still unable to move from his spot. A run-down place in the worse part of town, surrounded by drug dealers and prostitutes, even? To find her living in utter poverty?

Orlando cursed himself for his stupidity. Still, the relief he felt was much too big to conceal it. He had heard her stories of her place in LA, and for some reason, they had clung to him, tinting the image of what he would find in Prescott. But what laid before him, though, that nice place in a town that offered peace and nature at every turn? It had taken him completely off his centre in a good way. Zowie was doing well. She was safe. She had a nice place, a job she obviously enjoyed, and had her life under control once again. That she had achieved all of that away from him was one of the things that bothered him, but Orlando buried that bitterness deep inside him, filing it along with the other things he needed to discuss with her in due time. For now he would shake the odd feelings off of him, and walk into this dinner with a smile on his face. Whatever came next… he would deal with it in due time.

Orlando trotted up the stairs, the bag bouncing in his hand as he made his way up every step, his heart thudding with anticipation. Why did he feel this anxious? What was so different about this time when compared to all their other meetings? When compared to the past they shared?

A great deal of things were different, Orlando realised. Back in New Zealand, none of the baggage that now laid between them had been there. Back then, they had been young and free and careless, with no past shared whatsoever. It had taken them time to recognise what they had in and with each other in Morocco, but once they had, they’d dove headfirst into it, holding on to it for dear life and sucking every bit of joy and bliss they could draw out of it. It was _that_ shared past what now passed before Orlando’s eyes in a blurry haste, almost making him dizzy. He knew what he would see when Zowie appeared before him, for it was the same thing he had been seeing since she had walked into her office weeks ago.

The glow of her skin in the desert moonlight, her delighted gasps, the softness of her hair against him… he would never forget those for as long as he lived.

But for now, he would banish those images from his mind and focus on the here and now. Even if they came back as soon as he laid eyes on her.

The moment Orlando reached the second floor, the thudding of his heart, which had subsided if only the slightest, came back with a vengeance. Taking a deep breath, he took a look around, taking advantage of his spot over the other buildings of the area to admire the landscape that stretched before him. Mountains covered in snow and a sunset that, having begun with a bright purple shade, had now taken an intense hue of blue. The sky was cloudless, and he was sure that, should he try to later on, it would be the perfect night for stargazing. Except for the cold wind, of course. Looking at the picture perfect scene developing before him, Orlando had no doubts why Zowie preferred this place over any other city she knew in the world, and he could feel that same attraction beginning to work its charm on him.

Yet, not even the painteresque scenery would be enough to distract him from the task at hand, and turning his attention back to the doors lining at his left, he set out to find number 23 spotting it, as expected, near the end of the corridor. There was nothing unusual about that door; white, plain, with a brass 23 hanging right over the peephole… it was just like every other door Orlando had encountered in his life. Crossing it, however, meant so much more! It meant taking a step into a new moment of his life, one that included Zowie after years of not having her around, after convincing himself that all his feelings for her were gone. It meant admitting that maybe he had been wrong, and it was something he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

It was with that burden of nervousness and anxiety that Orlando knocked at the door. He was a bit rougher than he had first intended on the first knock, and wincing, controlled the strength in the last two. Shifting nervously his weight from one foot to the other, Orlando waited for any sign of life inside the apartment, and when it came, it brought along feelings that made him forget about his anxiety and potentiated it at the same time. There was shuffling inside, as if Zowie hurried from one place to the other with last-minute preparations now that he had arrived.

“Coming! Just a second!”

A smile tugged at Orlando’s lips. Yes, she was rushing around, and he wondered, taking a quick glance at his watch, whether he had arrived much too early. Not as far as he could see, for the hands of the clock showed it was only five minutes after the appointed time; perhaps he should have offered her a bit longer, he mused. When he heard her steps coming towards the door, the thudding of his heart became a wild galloping. Why, he wondered? Zowie, however, didn’t give him time to ponder on that much longer. The door opened with a rapid swing, and the wide, welcoming smile she offered him could have lit up a house.

“Orlando! Welcome!” Zowie exclaimed, her smile growing brighter at the sight of him, a light blush colouring her cheeks and showing her delight at having him there. “Please, come in… don’t stand out there in the cold.”

It was funny how, now that the moment of truth had come, Orlando hesitated on taking the step that would finally, and completely, bring him back into her life. But just as the thought entered his mind, he mentally shook his head. What was he there for, anyway? _Second chance_ , he reminded himself as he slowly crossed the threshold, entering Zowie’s world and taking a few instants to collect himself, take a few deep breaths and steady his wild heart.

The physical warmth that welcomed him, that enveloped him in that tiny but cosy living room, was nothing compared to the warmth he found in Zowie’s blue eyes when he finally set his own on them. They sparkled like diamonds under the desert sun, and the beaming smile she offered him rivalled in its brightness, making whatever worries still lingered inside him, disappear. Zowie still wore her work clothes and had her hair pulled up in a messy bun as she worried a dishtowel in her hands, but she made a beautiful sight Orlando had the hardest time tearing his eyes from. It also made his heart ache. He had spent the last three years of his life trying to convince himself that he hated her. God, he couldn’t have been any more wrong! That girl before him, eyeing him with joy in her eyes would forever hold his heart, no matter how much he tried to convince himself of the opposite.

Realising that, admitting it to himself, opened a door inside him that Orlando had kept tightly sealed since she had left him in Morocco. It opened a door to that second chance he had vowed himself he would give her. It didn’t mean things would go right just out of sheer will or stubbornness; it just meant that, after trying to talk himself out of it, of convincing himself, he realised he was finally ready for it.

“I hope I’m not too early.” He said, his eyes following the trail of a dark blonde lock that had strayed from the bun, tumbling down the side of her face to brush her shoulder. She must have noticed what attracted his attention, for she brushed the lock behind her ear, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

“Oh, no… not at all. I just got delayed at work, that’s all. A meeting I couldn’t seem to escape from.” Her shrug was accompanied by an apologetic smile. “But please, take a seat. Oh, and can I have your coat? Jesus, my mum would be horrified at my lack of manners.” Giving him a tiny smile, she added. “I don’t entertain much, that’s my excuse.”

Orlando shrugged to disregard her concerns, and was about to take off his coat when the green bag got in the way. Remembering what it was for, he handed it to Zowie with a knowing grin. He might feel lost at the discovery he had just made and at the feelings that surged up every time she was near, but the one certainty he had, was that Zowie was going to love what he had brought her.

“These are for you.” He said, handing her the bag. “I have a feeling you’re going to love them.”

For the first time since he had entered her apartment, Zowie’s smile vanished from her lips, albeit slowly, and was replaced by a puzzled frown.

“For me? Orlando, you had no need to…”

He hushed her with a shake of his head.

“Trust me.”

When Zowie finally gave the bag a good look, the expression on her face sent a true, amused smile to Orlando’s own lips. Her eyes widened and her lips, until then stretched in her joy, formed a round, silent O as her hands reached for what he offered her.

“Pralines?” Zowie asked, still awed. She was about to grab a hold of the bag when she looked up at him, a slightly guilty look on her face. “Orlando, you shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” He asked, forward and ready to deflate her argument.

“Because… well…” Zowie struggled to find a reasonable excuse why he shouldn’t have bought the chocolates, but couldn’t seem to find any. “Because this is my treat. My invitation. You didn’t need to bring anything.”

“And you think _my_ mum wouldn’t be appalled at my lack of manners?” At that, Zowie couldn’t help but smile and shake her head, knowing she had been caught in her own game. Raising her hands, she conceded her defeat. “I usually bring a bottle of wine.” He said. “But I wasn’t sure, and… well…”

The way Zowie looked up at him told him she understood exactly what he was trying to say, even though he couldn’t quite put it in the right words. Nodding softly, she bit her lip to hold her smile back. She worried it for a little while, and when she finally released it, Orlando couldn’t help but notice the tiny, reddish patch her teeth had left behind.

“Thank you.” Zowie said, and the sound of her voice was enough to bring him out of his musings. “It was very thoughtful of you. And you were right… I love these. They will go great with an after dinner cup of coffee.” She looked up at him and something in her eyes puzzled him. There was a certain longing in there, but one she didn’t act up on. She seemed to almost physically shake it off of her, for with a little shake of her head, Zowie reassumed her hostess duties and once again smiled at him. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll take your things to my room and get changed. Dinner’s ready, we can eat as soon as I’m done. Is that okay with you?”

Orlando nodded, and although he was curious what it was that had taken over her eyes just seconds ago, he decided to play along instead. Handing her his coat and other belongings, he watched her disappear into her room, returning the tiny smile she offered him over her shoulder.

The instant Zowie closed the door to her bedroom behind her, she leaned heavily against it, her eyes closed as she drew a deep breath.

God, how close had she come to kissing Orlando just instants ago? The way he had looked at her, with eyes that warred between wariness and the need to open up, to reclaim if anything one bit of what they used to have, had touched her heart so deeply, Zowie had almost thrown herself at him. It was only out of sheer will, and the knowledge that she couldn’t ruin this opportunity the deities above had so graciously offered her, that she managed to control herself. The fact that Orlando was worried about whether she, as a recovering addict, could or could not drink alcohol told her that, despite his initial anger, he was willing to make this – whatever _it_ was – work.

Zowie knew better than to build her hopes too high and had been talking about this with Rebecca for quite a while, and felt she now had the tools to handle both this situation and Orlando like a grown, stable woman. As opposed to what had happened in the past, Zowie felt that she knew exactly where she stood as far as Orlando was concerned. Back in the day, she had always put him first and foremost, above everything and everyone else, including herself. Now she knew better. That didn’t mean, of course, that the fluttering in her heart and the slight trembling of her hands had nothing to do with the handsome man standing outside her door.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the coat she held in her hands. She knew it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, that she needed to keep a clear head on her shoulders and that doing this wouldn’t help, but the moment she brought the neckline of Orlando’s coat to her nose and inhaled deeply, Zowie knew she would have never been able to control herself. The scent she found there brought memories that made the fluttering in Zowie’s heart intensify. There wasn’t a single moment they had spent together that had left her mind, and the memories seemed to fill her as his scent permeated her body. Standing before him that first afternoon years and years ago in Wellington, their first time, how he had hugged her as she recounted William’s story… that first hug in Los Angeles, when Zowie had so much to feel ashamed of… that wonderful night in Morocco when she had experienced for the first time what true fulfilment was… walking into her office to find Orlando standing there, looking angry but oh so vulnerable at the same time. The good ones and the bad ones, they all converged inside her, overwhelming her with a wave of emotion. Orlando was more important to her than he even imagined, and even though she knew better than to build a flimsy castle on a weak cloud that would fly away with the first gust of wind that came by, she couldn’t help but pray that the night turned out right. She didn’t expect a declaration of undying love the way she had years ago, but knowing he didn’t hate her, that he understood her reasons was enough for her. At least for now.

It wasn’t easy to shake the spell of the memories off of her, but Zowie forced herself to rest Orlando’s coat on her bed, doing her best to ignore the familiarity of the gesture as she darted around the room to find something suitable to wear. She hadn’t wanted to obsess over every instance of that dinner, whether what she was going to cook or what she was going to wear, so taking a deep, steadying breath, Zowie stood in the middle of her small room and looked around with as much calmness as she could muster, given the situation she was in.

This was hardly a situation that called for an evening gown – which she didn’t own, by the way – so Zowie decided to play it safe. Walking to her closet, she gave the items hung and folded there what had to be an incredulous look. What would the 17 year old Zowie think of that closet full of nice, comfortable clothes but, above all, of the visible absence of the fancy items that her younger self had loved so much? She would probably curl up in a corner and rock herself back and forth in terror, Zowie mused with a grin.

It’s not that she didn’t like such clothes anymore; she just didn’t have much use for them in a place like Prescott with a job such as hers. There were a few dresses here and there she had bought for the occasional Christmas party with co-workers and such, but nothing like that mini skirt her dad had banned from a party so many years ago. Her grin widened. Had those plans gone awry or what? In the end, Zowie decided on what seemed the perfect outfit for a dinner at home with an old friend and walked out of her room, hoping her musings hadn’t kept her in there far too long.

“Sorry.” She said automatically as she closed the door behind her and crossed the narrow corridor that separated her bedroom from the bathroom as it simultaneously led to the main room of the apartment. “I hope I didn’t take too long.”

Orlando, who had until then been staring out the window that overlooked the north side of the city, turned around to face her, and no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, he was sure the façade of nonchalance he had worked so hard to achieve slipped, if only for a few seconds.

The clothes Zowie wore were the most conventional Orlando could think of: light blue jeans that hugged her curves in the most appealing way, black boots that added a few inches to her height and a V-neck pink sweater that accentuated the blush in her cheeks. Yet, with her long hair down and an expectant look in her blue eyes as he looked up at him, the only thing Orlando could think of was that Zowie was the most beautiful girl he had seen in his life. And he, who rubbed elbows with some of Hollywood’s most attractive women, was rendered speechless by her.

The irony wasn’t lost to him, but even then he couldn’t stop looking at her with eyes that hardly ever blinked in their hunger to take all of her in. There was hardly a part of Zowie that Orlando didn’t know, a side of her that he hadn’t seen before and nevertheless, this young woman standing before him, so healthy and vibrant with life, kept blindsiding him every time their paths crossed in life. No matter how much he thought he knew her, there was always a situation or something that changed everything, throwing him off balance. In the past, Orlando had seen himself in the middle of the task of trying to understand why she had fallen into an addiction. Now, he was faced with a new challenge: understanding the woman she had become away from all vices but, most importantly, away from him. And regardless of the challenge, Orlando still ached to hold her in his arms.

“No, no. It’s okay.” He finally managed to say through the knot that had unexpectedly risen to his throat. Then, nodding at her, his next words were accompanied by a slight movement of his right hand that encompassed her from head to toe. “You look… great.”

The blush in Zowie’s cheeks intensified and she smiled with a mix of joy and embarrassment. Looking up at him from under her lashes, she spoke.

“Thanks. So do you.”

And she wasn’t lying. With black jeans and a midnight blue sweater, his curls flowing free, Orlando made her even weaker at the knees than he usually did. Perhaps it was the fact that he was standing in her living room, no matter how awkward he still looked after being there for only a few minutes to begin with, but just the fact that he was there made her giddy with both joy and nervousness. After three years thinking the man hated her guts, the fact that they had come to that instant when they could have a civilised dinner together, was more than she had ever dared to dream of.

Orlando didn’t duck his head shyly at her comment like she had or seemed much affected by her words; he simply stared at her for long seconds with an undecipherable expression on his face until Zowie began to think she had been completely out of line. The instant a slow, lazy smile stretched his lips, however, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was barely there, but it didn’t go missing to her. It was a far cry from the old smiles they used to share, so open and sincere at one time, but it was a start, and Zowie clung to that.

“Dinner’s ready. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll bring it over.”

Orlando nodded at her offer, and Zowie was swift to decline his offer for help, reminding him that he was her guest, and that she was supposed to make him feel comfortable. She was still a far cry from being an experienced cook, but she did enjoy spoiling those very few people who came over and spent time at her house. Her mum, Jared, Elijah, the occasional co-worker… and now Orlando.

“That smells delicious.” Orlando said as he watched her work over the small island that separated the kitchen from the main room. “Pasta?”

Zowie nodded as she picked up a large bowl and carried it to the table.

“Yes. A la bolognaise. I have improved some but still I’m not that great a cook!”

“Well, it’s still an improvement from what you could prepare in New Zealand.”

Zowie, who was about to set the food on the table, looked down at him with a half amused, half confused look.

“Orlando… I couldn’t prepare a decent cup of coffee back then even with the help of a machine.”

Orlando grinned unrepentantly.

“Exactly.”

The O that parted her lips, the look of surprise, and then of slight aggravation on Zowie’s face was too much for Orlando to resist. The smile that had been teasing his lips until then grew to its full potential, and he had to work hard to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape from his parted lips. When Zowie herself grinned, however, and gave him an admonishing look accompanied by a wide smile, he let it go, and although brief and not obnoxious, it still took Orlando by surprise. When had he relaxed so much that his laughter wasn’t contrived or forced? He looked up at Zowie, who now was shaking her head, and although a part of him wanted to cling to the resentments and whatever doubts he still had, another one was feeling far too content to let it take over.

In the end, Orlando noticed that, as soon as he relaxed and let go of some of his wariness, Zowie opened up. It’s not that she had ever been closed up around him since he had arrived, but he guessed he must be giving off vibes that were friendlier than the ones in other meetings, for she seemed even more comfortable with his teasing.

“If memory serves right.” Zowie pointed out after Orlando brought up a string of failed cooking projects he had witnessed in the past. “I think I recall a few screwed up dinners of your own. The Wellington take away service was never the same after you left.”

“Now you’re exaggerating. Most of my meals were taken on set, remember?”

Setting a plate full of deliciously smelling pasta in front of him, Zowie snorted.

“The catering service did save your life, didn’t it?”

Taking a second to think of an answer, Orlando pulled a thoughtful face before answering matter-of-factly.

“Yes.”

Zowie shook her head, her smile widening. Preparing a plate for herself, she then sat down and waved at his own.

“Well, I don’t have a catering service here at my disposal, so I think it’s time you risked your life and proved whether my cooking skills have actually improved or not. There’s no escape Orlando, so… eat.”

Sighing heavily, as if about to face a challenge much too great for him, Orlando took a forkful of pasta to his mouth under her expectant stare. She watched him chew and swallow, and while impatience and doubt was written all over her face, much to her credit, she didn’t say a thing. When she inched forward in her seat and her palms flattened against the table, however, Orlando knew he couldn’t keep her waiting much longer.

“It’s really, really good, Zowie. Your cooking skills have _definitely_ improved.” Then, raising his glass in a toast, he added. “Here’s to more proofs of how much they have improved.”

Why he had said that, Orlando didn’t know, but the words came from the bottom of his heart. He did want to spend more time with Zowie. He did want to come over and have dinner with her. Perhaps not as if nothing had ever happened, as if they were nothing but old friends without any sort of the baggage they dragged behind them, but in hopes that something of what they had once shared, at the very least, could be salvaged after everything they had gone through.

At his words, Zowie felt a fluttering in her heart. That he truly wanted to spend more time with her – for that was what his words implied – made funny things to her insides, things that weren’t unpleasant at all. She would never say no to that for, despite everything that had happened, she also wanted more time by his side. If everything depended on that dinner and how things went, then Zowie was willing to invest on it fully. She didn’t want to look too far ahead for she knew exactly what happened to her when she did, but was more than willing to work hard, if anything else, to have a lovely night with someone who had been – and still was – very important to her.

“Hard day at work?” Orlando asked, restarting the conversation before attacking the pasta with gusto. Zowie looked up at him, her fork halfway to her plate.

“You mean the meeting?” When he nodded, she shrugged. “That’s routine. We have them once a week to review the progress of the patients. We did do some exercises today… indoor ones. My work involves planning hiking excursions, camping nights in the mountains, things that will help the kids build their confidence in themselves and each other.”

Orlando watched Zowie all the while as she spoke, admiring the intensity, the interest, the _love_ he could hear in her words as she talked about her job. He could observe her all night long. Her eyes brightened, the gestures of her hands accompanied her every word… it obviously meant the world to her. There was only one thing Orlando had heard Zowie raving about before, and that was sword-fighting. Was that out of her life for good? Did she miss it? Why had she never tried to take that hobby back since leaving Morocco?

“What kind of exercises are those? I’ve heard about them before, but I’m not sure what they’re about.” His question wasn’t born just to make conversation or out of fake ignorance; he was truly interested, and wanted to know everything there was to know about Zowie’s job.

“Have you ever watched the movie _Mean Girls_? I didn’t think so.” Zowie said with a broad smile when Orlando’s face was contorted in a blank expression. “Long story short, every girl in the school has to learn how to trust in her peers once again. But how to do that? A teacher has every single one of them stand at a certain height with their backs turned on the others and tells them to let themselves fall back, trusting the others will catch her. _That_ is a confidence exercise. You won’t be able to do it unless you really, _really_ trust on those who are supposed to catch you.”

“So you guys do that same exercise?”

“Sometimes yes and sometimes no. That’s where the outings come in. When you’re climbing a mountain and you’re sharing a rope with someone, there’s no way out but to trust them. There are no options. It might seem hard, but sometimes you need to be exposed to what you fear the most until you learn how to work against it. It works wonders with the kids. I know it did with me.”

She had no idea what had made her bring that last comment up, but she was glad she had the moment their gazes locked over the table. Orlando looked at her with eyes that told her more than he had since he had re-entered her life. The last thing in her mind was to make him feel guilty, but if this relationship they had now, whether a friendship or something entirely different, was going to progress, he was going to need to know everything about the past three years of her life. She had already told him some, but she didn’t want any more secrets between them.

“Part of why I got into drugs, Orlando, was because I refused to trust other people. I thought I could handle it all and that no one could understand what I was going through. I did start opening up a little when Geoff found me and I had to tell him, and you, what was going on, but I was nowhere near ready to fully start trusting others. That was the first step. The next one was accepting the offer of help Elijah had made long before that, and get myself checked in at the centre. It didn’t take me as much as it does to some kids to get through those exercises, but I had to work hard nonetheless. It wasn’t traumatic.” She pointed out to reassure him. “It just had to be done.”

Orlando nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. Zowie could almost see the engines rolling around in his head, absorbing what she had just said to him. It was a great start that he had opened up and had left his bad attitude from the first meetings behind, but she didn’t want him to dwell on things that had happened a long time ago and that couldn’t be changed.

“But, how about you?” She asked, hoping to take the conversation, until then so light-hearted and relaxed, away from such sombre matters that could potentially spoil everything. “What have you been up to here in Prescott? Is there a particular place you enjoy the most?”

Orlando perked up, as if he didn’t want to ruin that opportunity they had given themselves either.

“I haven’t done that much, really. I think I have spent most of my time basically lounging around in my hotel. I think it’s about time I did something, right?” He gave her a sided grin, to which Zowie responded with one of her own.

“Well, I’ve heard your hotel is a lovely place.”

“Yes, it is. Really laid back, relaxed… much calmer than a bigger hotel… but still no excuse for not doing more sightseeing beyond the Courthouse Square. And Pralines.” He pointed out rather cheekily, his head cocking in the general direction of the green bag sitting on the kitchen island. He decided to leave the part about not wanting to be recognised out of the conversation, not thinking she might enjoy that particular bit of information. Zowie had always understood before, but just in case…

“I could show you around if you want. I mean, we could go out some time if you want to see more of this place.” Zowie said, the sudden enthusiasm brightening her features. “There are a lot of places I’m sure you would enjoy, mainly natural ones, even if it’s winter. We do a lot of hiking with the kids in the centre so I know pretty much every trail that there is to know around here, and some off the track too. Prescott might be a small town, but you can’t ignore the beauty of its surroundings.”

There was no mistake: Zowie loved that place. And every time something reminded him of that fact, Orlando felt a pang of an unknown emotion inside him. Did that mean Zowie didn’t want to leave Prescott? That she had found her place in the world among the Arizona mountains? And why did that bother and worry him so much?

The words left his mouth before he could even think of holding them back.

“You really love this place, don’t you?”

Zowie looked at him for a second. She must have read something in his eyes, for she put her fork down and stared at him straight in the eye. He wasn’t stating a fact with his words; there was something else there, something that ran deeper and that she couldn’t quite grasp.

“I do. I found peace here. I made it with some facts of my life and with the people in it, but above all, I made peace with myself. I matured here. That’s not saying that I didn’t grow up some in, let’s say, Los Angeles, especially with everything I went through, but that’s different. I think Prescott is the perfect place for someone like me, recovering from an addiction and trying to find her place in the world where things aren’t as overwhelming as they could be in, I don’t know, LA or New York. I needed a place I could handle before trying something else.”

“Are you willing to?” Orlando interjected. “To try something else, I mean.”

Zowie pondered her answer for a moment, the same length of time in which Orlando’s heart seemed to stop beating.

“My mum has been bugging me to visit Wellington. She hasn’t managed to convince me just yet, but…” There was an open vacillation in her voice that Orlando couldn’t nor wouldn’t ignore.

“But…?”

Sighing, Zowie took a hand to her forehead, lightly rubbing the skin there before answering.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do or how I’d handle it if I did. I mean, for an instance, Jewell still isn’t in speaking terms with me, even after all these years. I can understand her, but I will _not_ put my mum through that kind of stress. I won’t put her in a position where she has to choose which daughter she prefers, so she can be torn inside and in angst about the whole thing. Never. Not that Jay would allow me, _us_ in fact, to do such thing, actually. And then there’s my dad, and…” Another deep, heartfelt sigh escaped Zowie’s lips. Her eyes blurred a little as she stared unseeingly at some spot outside the window for a long instant before settling them once again on Orlando. “I haven’t seen him since I left Wellington either. My mum, Jared…” She pointed at the framed pictures located on a small table by the living room window. “They’ve come to visit, we talk over the phone all the time, we chat online, but there’s a chasm between me, Jules and my dad that I have no idea how to deal with.”

Although surprised by the turn the conversation had taken, Orlando still didn’t let the opportunity go. A second chance was what he wanted, and that Zowie was opening her heart about her insecurities seemed like the correct way to start it off.

“Have you tried to contact them?” He asked, leaving his fork aside and staring at her straight in the eye.

Zowie shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips.

“I wouldn’t know how.” Her tone was open and sincere, and Orlando felt a pang in his heart upon hearing it.

“You’re talking to me right now, and there was a big blank space between us until not too long ago.” Orlando pointed out matter-of-factly. He didn’t mean it in a rude way; he was just stating the obvious. While there had been a chasm, as Zowie had said, between them until a couple of weeks ago, they sat at the same table in that moment, sharing a meal and a conversation more private and intimate that he had ever dared to hope when he first asked her out for dinner.

Zowie’s blue eyes fixed on him with an undecipherable expression as she spoke.

“Yes, but you came to me. And I thank you for that. I had been meaning to contact you for years and I had never had the courage to do so. If Elijah hadn’t intervened, if he hadn’t meddled in a way that would have annoyed me at any other time, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. I’d be sitting here all alone and wondering if I would ever see your face again other than in magazines or on the TV screen.”

Her words gripped Orlando’s heart in a vice grip. Was this the moment when he would start getting the answers he had come to demand? The ones that had flown him to America fuelled by anger and completely out of himself with such confusing emotions that not once had he stopped to consider Zowie’s motives, unless they fitted his nightmarish thoughts?

“Why, Zowie? Why did you never try to contact me all these years?”

His question felt like a punch to Zowie’s belly. They had talked about this before, but not like this; never this calmed and without any traces of the anger that had tinted their previous arguments.

“I couldn’t.” Zowie answered, her voice a mere whisper. “All the time, this thought was in my mind… that I would pick up the phone and call you, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to even do such thing. Every time I tried to convince myself that you would listen, that you would understand, but deep down inside I knew you hated me for what I’d done to you.” Taking a deep breath, Zowie seem to steel herself, to regain some composure and strength before adding. “I still stand behind everything I said before, though. I had to do this alone. Perhaps I could have let you know where I was, but I would have never got better if I kept hiding behind you. It’s not your fault. It’s just… what I needed to do. You have no idea how sorry I am for keeping you in the dark the way I did. Now I realise how unfair and deliberately hurtful that was, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

There were a million things Orlando wanted to say, that fought to escape his parted lips. Yet, out of all of them, there was only one that managed to come out.

“I don’t hate you.”

Perhaps it was the best thing to say. The wise thing. What his heart wanted to say, even. Just not what one would say if wanting to keep or find the upper hand in a conversation such as this.

Problem was that, perhaps, there wasn’t an upper hand to be had per se. Perhaps it was time to leave all the power struggles behind and just try to patch things up.

 _Second chance,_ a voice whispered in his ear.

Zowie’s eyes shone with the unmistakable gleam of tears, but she took a deep breath, visibly controlling them in the last second before they spilled down her cheeks.

“I did hurt you a lot.” She whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

“So did I. When I failed to understand what you were trying to do for me in Morocco. When I failed to understand why you had to come here on your own. When I kept acting like a selfish bastard over and over again.”

“You had every reason to.” Zowie countered.

“To be an idiot and come here with the sole intention of making you feel every bit of the pain I had gone through? Never. I think even you know by now that you deserve better than that.”

A tiny little smile played on Zowie’s lips.

“Yes. That’s what my therapist has been telling me all these years. That, and that I had no reason to keep myself from contacting you other than my own fears. And she was right, as you can see now.”

Heart beating wildly in his chest and knowing this was a chance he couldn’t waste, Orlando looked straight into Zowie’s eyes as he spoke.

“Look, Zowie… I can’t deny that I came here with horrible motives, but after I saw you, after I talked to you, I began to see my own share of blame in this whole thing. And yes, I do have a share.” He hurried to point out when Zowie parted her lips to deny his words. “But when I called you about this dinner, all I had in mind was a second chance to make things right between us. I don’t want to rush into anything and I sure don’t want to rush you, but I don’t want to lose you again. I think it’s time we set things straight for once and for all.”

What could Zowie say to that? Hell, could she even _utter_ a single word after Orlando’s impassioned, heated speech? There were so many different emotions inside her, she felt she was about to burst. There was a joy so enormous she wanted to jump on the table and tap dance there at the rhythm of an imaginary music only she could hear, but at the same time, she was terrified. Terrified that she would end up hurt once again, terrified that she would once more lose herself, putting Orlando first and foremost and leaving her own needs and desires in the backseat. Nevertheless, and much like Orlando a few minutes ago, out of the shamble of words struggling to form the most varied of statements eager to leave her mouth, only one managed to come out, and it was the most unexpected one.

“I know. I want that too.”

Zowie didn’t realise how tense she was until she saw Orlando visibly relax before her eyes, and until she felt a weight she didn’t know she carried lifted off her shoulders. This didn’t guarantee anything, she hurried to tell herself, knowing how easily her hopes built too high when the man before her was concerned. Admitting what they had done wrong, voicing the two of them wanted a second chance, didn’t necessarily mean things would turn out to be just fine straight away just by saying the words. Neither did it mean that Orlando still felt for her any other than a purely selfish interest or, at the very least, the desire for the friendship they had once shared. Keeping a level head on her shoulders would be vital. She had learnt that much.

“I have a lot to make up for.” Orlando said, reaching over the table and taking her hand in his. A shiver coursed her entire body, but Zowie managed to conceal it from his gaze. “I know this doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I have to try.”

A broad smile played on her lips.

“I have some making up of my own to do, so… why don’t we start right away?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

 

With the wireless phone cradled between her head and her shoulder, Zowie walked around the sofa and slowly reached the living room window, staring at the landscape outside as she waited for the long distance connection to be made. The usual mental calculations had already been made; in fact, the time difference with her hometown was ever present in her mind. Having just arrived from work, a little after 5 P.M., Zowie estimated it had to be some time around noon in Wellington, a time when her mum would most likely be at home. But there was no telling, of course. With all her children now officially adult and out of home, and still being very young at 48, Noemie always found a way to occupy her time now that she had no young children to look after. Her occupation came in the shape of a small party planning and catering service she had created with a few friends she had known pretty much since her entire life.

It was nice to see her mum had found a way to carry on with her life after the divorce, Zowie mused as the line began to ring. If anything, it inspired her. If her mum, having devoted her entire life to a marriage that had failed, had nevertheless found a way around it, how couldn’t she, at mere twenty-four years old, just to the exact same thing?

However, inspiring or not, and enjoying of a renewed relationship with her mum, Zowie still felt a worry nagging at the back of her mind at the thought of what she was about to share with her. What would Noemie make of it? Would she agree to it, would she be emphatically against the sole idea? When she was in Morocco, Zowie had begun the slow process of opening up to her mum about many things she hadn’t shared in the past, especially about her relationship with Orlando. By the time she arrived in Prescott, she had confided Noemie with whatever story she still kept locked in her heart.

At first, Zowie had expected her mum to hate Orlando right on the spot. To loathe the very idea of him and simply detest the thought of him returning to her daughter’s life in any shape or form. But much to her surprise, Noemie had understood. And much to her surprise, the reasons had astounded Zowie, for she had never even considered them.

Noemie too had loved a man that had hurt her. Of course, what Orlando had done to Zowie had been out of ignorance and youthful carelessness, and couldn’t possibly be compared to William’s actions. But when the time came and both mother and daughter sat down and opened their hearts, Noemie had understood what Zowie had done. Hadn’t she, after all, taken William back even though he had broken her heart once? And hadn’t she finally decided to let him go, hoping to discover herself out of a relationship that had had no place to go for years? She had, however, berated Zowie for not once trusting her with what she was feeling, whether regarding Orlando, William, or even herself, but not even that could darken the fact that she now had Noemie’s support. One she was about to test as soon as her mother picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

Taking a deep breath to still her suddenly thumping heart, Zowie spoke.

“Hi, mum. It’s me, Zowie.”

“Zowie, darling! Hi!” The instant and obvious joy and enthusiasm in her mum’s voice bathed her with their warmth, and she closed her eyes, a tiny smile playing on her lips. How had she managed to keep herself away from the love of her family? The answer was easy, she reminded herself: as a part of a masochistic plan to torture herself _and_ others. All she had achieved, however, was hurt herself and her loved ones in the process.

“How are you?” Zowie asked, leaning against the window frame.

“I’m great, honey. Just getting ready to meet Olivia and Mary for lunch.”

Olivia and Mary, Noemie’s business partners, had been a fixture in Zowie’s life for as long as she could remember. Olivia, in fact, was her godmother.

“How’s the business coming? Are you guys getting any new projects?”

Zowie could sense her mum’s enthusiasm even halfway around the world.

“Tons, actually. Things are growing steadily and the initial investment should be paid off soon. I think we’re finally building ourselves a name around Wellington.” Noemie’s gushing was as obvious as her previous joy and enthusiasm.

“I’m glad.” Zowie said, a smile on her face, and before she could add anything, her mum interrupted her.

“Yes, everything is good here but, what about you? How are _you_ doing? Is everything alright over there?”

Zowie’s smile faltered if only a little.

“Everything’s fine. Work is great as usual, the kids are coming along as expected and it has been one cold winter, but hey, that comes with the job.” Deciding there was no use on unnecessarily delaying what she had set out to do, and since she had learnt that running away from her issues never did any good, Zowie went straight to the point. “Mum, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it? Are you alright? Has something happened?”

Even with the tingle of nerves in her stomach, Zowie managed to smile at her mum’s concern. She imagined, though, that, should she ever have children and one of them disappeared from the face of the Earth for years and surfaced while recovering from a drug addiction, she too would act the same.

“I’m fine, mum, don’t worry.” She hurried to point out, and although her mum’s sigh came through the line, she imagined Noemie was far from actually relieved. “Remember I told you Elijah was in London making a movie?”

“Yes.”

“Well, while he was there, he thought it was a good a chance as any to do something he thought should have been done a long time ago.” Taking a deep breath, Zowie blurted her next words out gracelessly. “He contacted Orlando and gave him my address and he’s here now. In Prescott.”

A long silence filled the line, one that stretched for an unbearably long time, making the hair in the back of Zowie’s neck stand on end with tension. For a moment, she feared all of Noemie’s positive thinking about Orlando would fly out the window now that he was back in the picture.

What she said, however, caught her completely by surprise.

“Well, honestly, I think it was about time.”

What else could Zowie possibly do, but gasp in shock? Her eyes widened and lost focus on the landscape before her as her mind tried to wrap around what she had just heard. She had hoped her mum would understand, that she would put herself in her shoes, just like Zowie had done. In fact, she had been almost ready to try and make her see her point. What she hadn’t expected, however, was this level of understanding coming from Noemie, and it puzzled her so completely, she had a hard time coming up with something to say.

“What… what do you mean? Mum, what are you talking about?”

As Zowie struggled to get a grip on this unexpected turn of the events, she heard sounds of rustling and shifting through the line, and she could easily picture her mum sitting down, as if making herself comfortable for the conversation that was ahead.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Zowie.” Noemie said into the line, the matter-of-fact tone she used hitting her daughter square on the face. “I never dared to voice my opinion on the matter simply because I didn’t want to affect whatever decision you came to, but in my mind, it was always a matter of time. Either you worked up the courage to go after him, or he managed to find you. I never thought things were over between the two of you, darling. Ever. And Elijah obviously thought the same thing.”

Had she had a place to fall back on somewhere near, Zowie would have allowed her knees to give in the way they wanted to, and collapsed on any vaguely flat surface that could offer her some support. She didn’t, though, so turning around, she leaned heavily on the wall behind her, her eyes staring unseeingly at the cream coloured walls of her living room.

“Mum, I… I…” Struggling to find the right words to say, Zowie closed her eyes and took a hand to her forehead, but nothing came out. “God, you have left me speechless.”

Was that a soft chuckle what she heard in the line?

“You thought I was going to jump at his throat first chance I had, didn’t you?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Zowie answered after a brief hesitation. Opening her eyes once again, she let them roam. “How did you know?”

Noemie scoffed.

“You forget one thing, Zowie… I gave birth to you. I know you. I know how you think. Even if I didn’t, we have talked about this many times before. I just knew you wouldn’t let this simply fade away, because God knows you’re stubborn, Zowie. You truly are a Hart when it comes to that. You just… had to find a way to do it. And besides, I knew in my heart that Orlando felt the same way. Had he known where you have been all along, I’m sure he would have never let such a long time pass without coming to you.”

Finally allowing her knees to give in under her, Zowie slid downwards with her back against the wall until she slumped on the floor. With her legs extended before her, a spark of sudden anger lit up inside her at the implications in her mum’s words. First Elijah, now her mum. Did they all think her blind?

“It seems I was the only person in the whole _world_ that wasn’t aware of what was going on.” Zowie said, anger dripping from her voice as she pronounced the words. “Besides Orlando, of course. I mean, Elijah did this because he thought I was simply going to sit here and never do a single thing about it. He knew that I wanted to see Orlando, but that I was afraid he would still be mad at me so, what does he do? He sends Orlando to me. To Prescott. And now you basically tell me I didn’t have the courage to do it?” She had never meant to be mad at her mum, but God knew that finding out that everyone she loved thought she didn’t have what it took to straighten that part of her life, angered her beyond belief. “Do you have any idea how many times I thought of flying over to England and knocking at his door? Millions! And you know what kept me here? Thinking Orlando was furious at me for bailing out on him the way I did. And he was!”

“And he had every right to.” Noemie answered, not intimidated by her daughter one bit. This wasn’t the spiteful, deliberately hurtful Zowie from years ago; this was a different Zowie, a new one, one Noemie understood and knew how to handle. “So would you, if things had been the opposite way. But Orlando is there, isn’t he, Zowie? He flew all the way from London to Prescott, Arizona… which, let’s face it, isn’t exactly _the_ airport hub in America or a movie making mecca. Would he have gone there just to tell you how mad he is?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what he wanted at first!”

“Tell me one thing, Zow… when did Orlando arrive?”

Zowie blinked, her anger momentarily diffused by her confusion.

“What does that have to do with anything?” She questioned, a frown darkening her features.

Noemie pressed on.

“Just answer the question.”

“A couple of weeks ago. Why?”

“Has he told you what he felt when you left Morocco?”

“Yes. Mum, what on Earth does this have to do with-“

“So he has been in Prescott for a couple of weeks and he has already told you how he feels about your disappearance. If that was everything he wanted, why hasn’t he left yet, then?”

 _Bam._ That was the sound exploding in Zowie’s ears at her mum’s words. Why did Noemie always have the ability to put words to what she tried to avoid? The answer to that question was one Zowie had been evading since talking to Orlando about that second chance. It had stopped there, nothing else had been said or arranged besides the fact of opening that door, and Zowie wasn’t sure anything else could be said between her and Orlando at that moment without spoiling things.

And she _so_ wanted that second chance! Orlando was back in her life, something she had feared would never happen again. And yet, at the same time, even though she dreaded Orlando would disappear from her life once again, there was one thing that worried her even more.

“God, Mum… I want him here. I want Orlando around, but…”

“But?”

“What if I lose myself all over again?”

Noemie felt her daughter’s fear gripping her heart like a vice. She knew exactly how much Zowie had suffered from what she called “losing herself”; for putting others first and foremost above her own feelings and needs. She loved Orlando, always had, but now knew she would never be able to be truly happy beside him unless she gave herself the place she deserved.

“Oh, darling… you have come a long way. You are not seventeen anymore! You’ve gone through a lot and you have learned a lot. Your heart, your head… they’re not in the same place they were when you met Orlando. Well, they _are_ , in a way.” She added, and Zowie could hear a faint smile in her mother’s words. “But you’ve grown up. You now know yourself in ways you didn’t back when he came into your life. What I’m trying to say, Zowie, is that you can’t let this chance go just because you’re afraid. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t. But go into it with a positive thinking. Give yourself the chance. Talk about this with Orlando. You’re strong, Zow. I believe in you and I want you to be happy. And if Orlando is the man who can give that to you, then I’m willing to give him a chance if you do too. He’s there for _you_ , never forget about that.”

Zowie was powerless to restrain the single tear that rolled down her cheek upon hearing her mum’s words. They had talked a lot since she had recovered, but what Noemie had just said had, at the same time, thrown her completely off balance as well as given her something to hold on to when she felt lost. On one hand, she had never imagined her mum would feel so confident about Orlando and whatever relationship Zowie had with him, but on the other, knowing she trusted her, her strength and her capability to keep her feet on the floor, gave her a solid base to start building her future on. She had spent years thinking she was alone and that no one could understand her. Now Zowie knew how wrong she had been.

“I love you, mum.”

Her daughter’s whispered words filled Noemie with a surge of warmth and joy that brought tears to her eyes. Those years when Zowie had disappeared without a trace, when she had not known what had been of her, Noemie had conjured countless of dreadful scenarios. When she came back into her life, Noemie had vowed herself to never let her go. Hearing her so lost and confused over a man she had loved for so long broke her heart in two, but she trusted Zowie, and was willing to trust Orlando as long as he had her daughter’s best interests in mind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12.**

 

“My first winter in Prescott was, well… a shock, if you ask me. I mean, I knew it got cold and I had been warned, but good God! My first day of real, heavy snowfall was awesome. I went out, built a snowman and all, but by the third week in a row, I was wondering where had all the summer heat gone and if it was ever, _ever_ going to return. Here, try this.”

With barely enough time to catch the thermal t-shirt that literally fell from the sky, Orlando avoided the minor disaster of finding his face covered in a mess of black fabric by a mere inch. He couldn’t help shaking his head with amusement as he untangled the garment, the sound of Zowie’s voice reaching him through the door of the changing room as she jabbered away. Details of that first winter in Prescott, Arizona, kept going at an incessant rate, alternating with brief anecdotes and useful facts that she estimated Orlando would need when they took on their first hiking excursion, which he was getting the proper apparel for. In any other given circumstances, Orlando would find that endless chatter annoying. But in that moment, in that place, and in that instance he and Zowie stood in their relationship, Orlando welcomed every word as a parched man welcomed every single drop of water.

These were the moments he had missed, he realised; moments of easy companionship and laughter. They were also the moments he had been kept from for so long; a thought Orlando managed to rein in, not wanting to spoil Zowie’s sudden burst of openness by casting a dark, horrible shadow on the happiness they had achieved. That didn’t mean the dark cloud left; it was just pushed back, to be dealt with later. These were the cards they had been given, and as far as he was concerned, he was going to deal with them no matter what.

Who would have guessed shopping for winter clothes would make Zowie open up so much? Orlando didn’t know whether it was the setting bringing good memories back or the fact that she was excited by having him around. Whatever it was, however, Orlando welcomed it greatly. He wanted to know about those days she had spent alone, but for some reason, he didn’t dare to ask about it unless Zowie brought it up herself.

As the voice continued on the other side of the closed door, Orlando stripped his upper body of clothes, thinking that, should the flow of words come to an end, it wouldn’t be because of him. At least, not willingly. He would have to come out of the changing room at one point, however, and after slipping the t-shirt on and running a hand through his tousled curls, he stared at his reflection, preparing himself and trying to come up with the best way to rekindle her outburst should it die. Taking a deep breath, Orlando opened the wooden door to find Zowie leaning casually against the frame, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Orlando’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Were that many items of clothes really necessary?

“…I mean, it does get cold in Wellington. And rainy, of course. But _this_? You are lucky… this winter has not been nearly as bad as-“

Zowie was silenced the minute the door, with nothing else but a slight creaking noise, slid open and her eyes, until then staring unseeingly at the poster before her – one depicting a young man escalating an unknown mountain – met the sight Orlando made as he stepped out.

The thermal t-shirt clung to his body, clearly showing every muscle, every angle she had once been acquainted with, and the sight robbed her of her breath. But, why? The question echoed in her mind as her eyes greedily roamed the muscles exposed by the tight fabric. Was there any difference from what she had seen before? Not really, she had to admit. Actually, Zowie reminded herself, she had seen Orlando _naked_. She had felt his skin against hers and she had found great pleasure on getting to know every inch of him. So, why did the sight of Orlando in that t-shirt that covered him entirely made her heart thump in her chest and got her mouth suddenly dry? He wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he had been in Morocco, she realised, her mind taking her back to that night in Ouarzazate. He wore something as common and practical as a thermal t-shirt, hardly the sexiest garment on the Earth. And yet, the way the black fabric clung to his body, showing everything and enlightening how truly in shape he was, made Zowie feel things she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Will this do?”

Thanking God she only had to pick her jaw up from the floor metaphorically and not in real life, Zowie gave her head a slight shake and did her best to compose herself. Extricating herself from the door frame and the awkward posture she had assumed there, Zowie held the bundle of clothes she had chosen for Orlando tightly against her chest, as if the mere pile of fabric could act as some sort of protective shield against the whirlwind of sudden and overwhelming desire he had awakened in her.

“Umm… yes. Sure.” She murmured, stumbling a little with her words as she tried to keep her feelings from showing. “Is it too tight?” She questioned, trying to bring herself back to the task at hand. “Is it comfortable?”

At Zowie’s question, Orlando began with a series of moves intended to prove the flexibility of the tight fabric and his mobility in it. His arms swung back and forth, he stretched them before him and then back, to finally send them up as high as they could go, baring an inch of flesh in his waist that instantly attracted her attention. Her breath, responding to a mind of its own, made her chest heave.

“Yes, it feels great.” Orlando said, his calmness making Zowie feel all the more obvious. “I think I’ll take it. If the expert says it’s okay, of course.”

There was a teasing note to his comment and in the smile the played on his lips as he said those words, and Zowie had to work hard, _really_ hard, to pull one of her own and look as unaffected as she possibly could.

“The expert says it’s perfect. Now here, try these on.”

Without giving Orlando the chance to add anything, Zowie literally pushed the pile of clothes on his hands. The pretended expression of pain and exhaustion he pasted on his face didn’t go unnoticed to her, and although she smiled dutifully and playfully pushed him back into the changing room, the relief that flooded her the minute he closed the door behind him was overwhelming. Collapsing rather ungracefully against the door frame once more, Zowie closed her eyes and took a hand to her forehead as she drew in one deep breath after the other, trying to ease the thumping of her heart. Her attempts, however, were unsuccessful, and not only did her heart rate not slow for a long while, the need that had unfurled inside didn’t seem to notice her battle against it.

Where had all that come from? Leaning her head against the wooden frame, Zowie opened her eyes, letting them stare unseeingly at the plaster of the store’s roof. When was the last time she had felt this way? She couldn’t deny it; she was a healthy young woman and had every impulse and urge that came with it, but the force they hit her with at the sight of Orlando? _Unexpected_ couldn’t even begin to describe it. What she had felt had come at her full force, taking her completely by surprise and making her surrender down on her knees at a truth that couldn’t be hidden for much longer: Zowie wanted Orlando. She _desired_ him the way a woman desired a man, and had never stopped feeling that way in the years they had spent apart. If anything, those years had only succeeded on putting a cover of pretended inexistence over them, helping her deal with them by simply thinking they weren’t there anymore. But just as she had never stopped loving the man, no matter how far away he was, the truth that those other feelings she had for him hadn’t disappeared either hit her square on the face. She remembered the times in Wellington, when she had been sure it was desire what she had felt. She could laugh now at the idiocy of those ideas. She had wanted _something_ back then; something she just couldn’t name nor understand. She had got her first and true taste of desire, of that all-consuming fire, and one night hadn’t been enough. Good God, no! The Lord above knew she had spent years either reminiscing that night, or trying to banish it from her mind altogether.

There was no concealing them now. And there was no controlling them either.

~*~

The shopping spree continued through several of Prescott outdoors clothing stores until Orlando, tired of getting in and out of his clothes in more changing rooms that he had ever seen in one day, called it a day. He wasn’t as tired as much as he was hungry, and his idea of spending time with Zowie didn’t involve him spending half of it stuck in a changing room.

He could understand why Zowie was so interested on him getting the right clothes for their planned hiking excursions. It was the middle of February after all, and being outfitted the right way could make a world of difference. That she was so zealous about it, however, dragging him from one store to the other, piling item of clothing after item of clothing in his hands before sending him into yet another changing room? That was what he couldn’t quite comprehend. She had been perfectly fine until they hit the first store, relaxed and chatty as he hadn’t seen her since having her back in his life. Now she had become zealous about it, almost as if she tried to make up for something. But what could that be? She wanted him to be safe? That Orlando could deal with. Was she trying to keep him busy or distracted? The more time they spent shopping, the more that idea grew in his mind. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find out what was wrong. She had been so relaxed before, while now a light frown seemed to permanently crease her features. He doubted Zowie even realised he had noticed. The easy banter from before was long gone, replaced by a strained, tense Zowie. That was why he decided to call the shopping session off to try and see what was truly going on.

As they left the last shop and Orlando divided his bags between his two hands to carry an even amount of weight on each one, he stared at Zowie from the corner of his eye, wondering what could have gone wrong, what could have killed that joy that had so obviously tinted her every feature when he rang her bell that morning. Was it something he had said? He strained, trying to recall anything that could point in that direction. He hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary, hadn’t mentioned topics that could be problematic and neither had he pushed her for anything. What was it, then? Everything had been fine until that first store, where her nonstop chatter had enveloped him, making him feel as if they stood on a safe ground once again in their lives. Right after that, however, things had changed. And two hours later, he realised she had skilfully avoided meeting his eyes, a clear sign that she concealed something, and Orlando hated that. He hated it because it reminded him of the previous stages in their relationship, when truths had been hidden for his sake and when he hadn’t been able to understand Zowie the way she deserved. He didn’t want any more secrets between them. He wanted this second chance. He _needed_ it. Badly at that. And if Zowie had agreed to it, then there was no way he was going to be denied of the fulfilment of that promise.

They walked out of the store almost in autopilot, a heavy silence between them. The breeze, although cold, felt great on his face, and when Orlando realised that, for whatever reason, their feet had taken them across West Gurley Street and towards Courthouse Square, he feared the end of that so called _date_ had finally come. He didn’t want that. He simply couldn’t go back to his hotel and sit there as if nothing had happened while Zowie was out there, a walking mystery to him! Hotel Vendome was, literally, around the corner. If he didn’t think of something fast, Zowie, as smart as she was to avoid these things, would get away with it and he would be left with an intrigue he wouldn’t be able to handle. Not that he would allow it, anyway; he hadn’t come this far, hadn’t let his past anger take a back seat just to have Zowie repeating the patterns from the old days.

“Hey, what do you say about having a cup of coffee? My treat.”

Was it him, or Zowie had stiffened a little under her long, black jacket and bright pink woollen hat? Orlando eyed the pompon on top of it and with a mildly amused smile, he thought that, should she get got any more tense, it would start trembling.

“I… well…”

“Uh uh. I am _not_ taking a no for an answer.” Orlando said, his voice full of determination the moment Zowie confirmed his suspicions and her hesitation translated into words. “There’s a really cool café just around the corner from the Post Office, right next to my hotel. I have been there before and it’s a really nice place. Very calmed, very relaxed… no one will bother us there.”

Zowie gave him a quick sided look, and taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. Orlando, knowing her, knew exactly what was coming: a negative.

“I’d love to, Orlando, but I think it’s for the better if I head home now. There’s… um… some work stuff my boss sent me that I need to go over and, well… I thought that perhaps you wanted to spend some time on your own. I mean, I’ve been on your back for most of the day and-“

“And I like that.” He was firm, yet not aggressive, when he interrupted her. He had been right, but knowing that didn’t make Orlando feel any better. Something was indeed bothering Zowie and he might not be able to get exactly to the bottom of it straight away, but he would be damned if he let her walk away feeling that way. If any of the old Zowie still lived inside her, and he was willing to bet that there was, she would most likely find a way to hide from it. A sensible part of him, the one that warred with the passionate one that was always there when Zowie was involved, reminded him that she had changed; that she had faced her fears and come out victorious. The other one reminded him that she would still be alone in Prescott, hadn’t Elijah acted for her. Standing before her and staring down at her intensely until she finally met his eyes, he said. “Zowie, I want you here. I like being with you. Yes, I’m a bit fed up with stripping off and getting dressed after doing it about ten times today, but that doesn’t mean I want this day to end right here, right now. I can see you have been tense all this time, ever since that first store. If I did or said anything that offended you, I’m sorry. I want this. I want to be with you. We have come a long way and if anything I do bothers you, you can tell me about it. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, right?”

When Zowie stared up at him, her blue eyes wide and full of turmoil, Orlando felt their power like a blow to his stomach. A few weeks ago, his heart had clamoured for revenge and he had dreamed of looking into her eyes to see reflected in them the grief he had felt while being away from her. Now, with Zowie standing before him in obvious distress, those feelings vanished in the air and, before he knew it, his bags landed at his feet and his arms were around her, pulling her as tight against him as their clothes allowed them.

Zowie closed her eyes, hiding her face against his dark blue scarf and inhaling the scent there, a mix of after shave and Orlando as she tried to calm herself down. Talk to him? How? How could she tell him that she had been swamped by a desire so strong she hadn’t been able to respond properly for a long while? That feeling that way made her feel weak at the knees and weak in her heart? That she feared Orlando didn’t feel that way for her anymore? Or that no one had been able to rekindle that fire in her until he had come back into her life? That being like this, in his arms, was what she had dreamed of for the past three years without even acknowledging it? There was no way she could tell him those things. She didn’t want to lie either, so she found a way around that overwhelming desire that throbbed inside her to open up to him as sincerely as she could.

“It’s just that… this is new to me.” She spoke, moving her face if only an inch so the sound of her voice would reach his ears. “You have to understand… I was so sure that you hated me, that you would never want to see me again and yet, here we are… I’m still trying to work my head around it.”

And she wasn’t lying. While the fire of want was the most urgent and troublesome fact in her mind, that this simple meeting was taking place was more than she could comprehend after years of thinking he was out of her life for good.

When Orlando pulled slightly back and he looked down at her, Zowie met his eyes.

“The past is there, Zow, we will never be able to forget it or ignore it. I have to admit I did want to hurt you at one time, but it isn’t there anymore. We both have learned that running away from our problems isn’t going to help, am I right?” When Zowie nodded, a tiny smile on her lips, Orlando returned the gesture for a moment before growing serious once again. “Then don’t run. Tell me about it. Otherwise it’s never going to work.”

Zowie lowered her eyes for a second and nodded before looking up again. Relishing on his warmth despite his thick coat, her smile grew.

“Thank you. I needed that.”

“So did I.” Orlando said with a grin. “Still saying no to that coffee?”

“Hell, no.” Zowie said, her voice low yet passionate. “I’m freezing out here.”

Letting out a soft laugh, Orlando pulled her close for another second before letting her go and picking up his bags.

“Truer words have never been spoken! You won’t be disappointed.” He added as he looked down at her. “They have the best waffles ever.”

Zowie grinned.

“You do know how bribe a girl.”

~*~

“And what about Helm’s Deep? You do remember Helm’s Deep, don’t you?”

Zowie’s eyes widened and took a quick sip of her foamy cappuccino, her eyes wide as words tumbled out of her mouth.

“As I could _ever_ forget it! Good God, the longest, wettest, coldest three months of my life!”

Orlando couldn’t repress the laugh that escaped his lips at Zowie’s vehement, heart-felt answer; mainly, because he agreed wholeheartedly.

“I grew to hate that bloody quarry by the time we were done!” He exclaimed, pounding the small table with his fist to emphasise his words and making Zowie giggle. “Three damn months living like a vampire with a soaking wet wig that got in the way every single time. Never been happier to finish shooting on location as I did that last day.”

Giggling once again, Zowie raised her cup of coffee to show her agreement.

“Here, here. Been there, done that. I even got the shirt.”

“Too bad you didn’t get to keep the armour. You looked good as a warrior elf.” Orlando teased and Zowie shook her head, another memory coming to mind.

“At least I played an elf that time!”

Her obvious annoyance, and the huffing that accompanied her words, got Orlando laughing and, this time, there was no controlling it. Oh yes, the Uruk-hai debacle… hard to forget the time Zowie and her best friend Brooke had dove headfirst into the chance of playing a part as extras in the movies right after school was over, only to find their dreams of pretty elvish maiden dresses and long flowing hair had been replaced by bulky costumes and black paint around their eyes. When his laughter subsided some and he looked at her across the table, Orlando found her blue eyes sparkling, her discomfort from before long gone.

“Right before Lij left New Zealand, I gave him two pictures of us as a present: one in the beach, the other taken that day with me holding the Uruk-hai’s head under my arm. Can you believe the damn bastard _still_ has that picture in his house, for the whole world to see? Not the one of us in the beach, no… the one of me looking like a racoon with a bad make up job and hair that looks like a bird nest. Damn him!”

Shaking his head, Orlando smiled widely. He remembered the teasing she had endured that day by the actors and how annoyed she had been at having to hide under that awful creature’s costume.

“At least you made a cute Uruk-hai.” Orlando commented lightly. Zowie gave him a dirty look that made him laugh once again.

“Yeah. Lij says the same. I’m not buying it.”

If someone had told Orlando half an hour ago that they would be sitting like this, laughing and chatting so openly about shared anecdotes from their time shooting _Lord of the Rings_ , he wouldn’t have believed it. Yet, once she had accepted his offer and they had entered Cuppers Coffee House, next door to his hotel, she had begun loosening up, especially when he brought _Rings_ up. There were other anecdotes, those that had taken place in Spain and Morocco while shooting _Kingdom of Heaven_ , but he refrained from mentioning those; he felt no desire to dampen her mood.

“You know what’s funny?” Zowie said suddenly, and there was a trace of sadness in her voice that he couldn’t ignore and that perked him up instantly. “I never got around to watch the movies. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that… I don’t know. I suppose I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Shocked by her revelation, Orlando cocked his head slightly as he stared at her.

“You never did?”

Zowie shook her head.

“I remember when they were premiered, but I didn’t want to go back then. I was too much of a mess.” She said in an apologetic tone, one that filtered in her smile.

“Enough said, then. We’re watching them. Together.”

Blinking at Orlando’s sudden, unexpected, and quite vehement declaration, Zowie couldn’t help but stare up at him and ask rather stupidly.

“What? _Now_?”

Orlando grinned and shook his head.

“We spent eighteen months filming a nine hour long monster. If we’re going to watch the whole trilogy, then we’re going to have to be prepared. Food. Drinks. Comfortable clothes. A bathroom close by. Things like that.”

He made it sound like such an ordeal, Zowie couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head.

“I’ll be waiting, then. I’m sure the facilities of my apartment can handle two _Rings_ freaks hanging there an entire day.” Wrapping her hands around the hot mug, Zowie smiled, some of the memories of those days trickling back to her mind. Even at her worse, those memories had always been in her mind. Sometimes they had taunted her, almost mocked her, but at others, they had given her the strength to go on. Looking up at Orlando, she let the words flow out of her mouth before she got the time to ponder them some more. The uneasiness from before had vanished with his easy conversation and the way he had made her laugh, and she didn’t it to return. “Did you watch the movies?”

Orlando took a sip of his Mexican Mocha, a mix of coffee, dark chocolate and cinnamon, and with her dark eyes fixed on her, he nodded softly.

“Yes, I did. I did it at the premieres. It was so exciting the first time, seeing everyone again after so long, finally getting to see what we had worked so hard for… It was worth the wait.”

His eyes lit up at his words, and Zowie’s smile widened as she pressed on.

“And? How did it feel? Was it odd seeing yourself on the screen, was it hard recognising yourself as Legolas? Were you impressed? Did things look different from what you imagined when you were filming them?”

The seemingly never-ending tirade of questions made Orlando’s smile grow as every single one came out of her lips. Seeing her this curious, this attentive, seeing that she wanted to know everything that there was out there to hear about his experience with watching the movies sent a warm vibe to his heart, one that made his relief grow some more. Leaning back on his seat, Orlando stared at Zowie for a short instant, soaking in the image of her. She leaned forward anxiously, impatiently waiting for his next words. Her eyes were wide and sparkled with interest and undivided attention, and her full lips were parted in anticipation. The blue of her eyes was bewitching, but the fullness, the softness of her lips made Orlando lose track of his thoughts for an instant. When Zowie prompted him to go on with an eager gesture of her hand, Orlando mentally shook his head and began to speak.

“On one hand, it was odd seeing myself on the screen because it was the first time it happened. I had seen myself on TV before, but the big screen? Now _that_ was something new. And yes, a little odd in a way. I mean, I _was_ there, but that guy with the elf costume didn’t quite look like me… that is why people were so shocked when they saw the real me instead of Legolas.” His eyes went to the mug in his hand, and he took a long sip before carrying on. “Was I impressed? Hell, yes! You know what it was like when we were filming. We had bits of sets built here and there… we had the Hall of Edoras built in the mountains, but the inside of the palace was built somewhere else. Thing were there, but then again they really weren’t.” He said, and Zowie nodded understandingly, remembering that Helm’s Deep was made primarily of a portion of the structure that would later be seen in the movie and how the rest had to be made up by the actors’ imagination. “And how did it feel? Well… It was great. The guys and I got together, we watched in awe, we laughed, we teased each other and I really enjoyed it. It might not be a novelty anymore, but I still get that buzz whenever a movie I have worked on is shown for the first time.”

“The premieres were huge on themselves.” Zowie pointed out. “The last one in Wellington was simply amazing. And I heard the one in Los Angeles was pretty huge too.”

Orlando nodded, and did his best to conceal the dark cloud he was sure had casted its shadow upon his features. Both premieres had indeed been amazing, but while the one New Zealand had been all about fun and closing a cycle in his life with the hopes of the one to come being even greater, the one in Los Angeles was a memory that stood out on its very own for very different reasons. That was the day Geoff and Elijah told him what was going on with Zowie, the day he found out why he had never heard of her in all those years; the day his guilt at having nearly forgotten all about her, at never having worried about her in all that time nearly overpowered him. The next months passed in a blur before his eyes, but Orlando managed to push the images aside, for he did _not_ want to ruin the moment.

“This is good, don’t you think?” He said at last, a cheerful hint to his voice that didn’t quite reach his heart. “A nice, cosy place, catching up over a good… make that a _great_ cup of coffee.” He amended. “I’m glad you came along.”

Zowie smiled, a smile that was open and honest, and so warm, Orlando felt it entering his heart.

“So am I. I had only come here once before with a co-worker. I remember loving the atmosphere that first time, I’m glad it’s still the same.”

Looking around, Zowie admired the simple, yet cosy decoration of the coffee house. Cuppers was one of the most famous cafés in town, but in that winter afternoon, she, Orlando and three elderly ladies chatting animatedly on a corner were the only patrons. She liked it that way; he didn’t want Orlando to hide or feel observed if anyone recognised him. It was bound to happen sometime, but she wished to delay it for as long as possible; a selfish part of her wanted him all to herself. Zowie knew feeling that way came dangerously close to the overbearing feelings from years ago, the ones that had taken her down a dark road, but she justified them by telling herself that Orlando needed that peace… and so did she. And, above all, that they deserved it to talk things through and find a middle ground after everything that had happened between them.

When Orlando studied her once again and he noticed the warm, relaxed glow in her blue eyes and the sheer calmness that had taken over her features, as opposed to the tension and the frown that had darkened them before, he soaked up on the image of her. Her peace had an unexpected effect on him: it soothed him, it calmed him, and boy did he need those things with the way things had been as of late!

“Do you like Prescott, Zowie?” He already knew the answer, but it was the best, most harm-free way of bringing the topic that was really in his mind.

Zowie stared up at him and her hands tightened around her cappuccino.

“I do.” She answered, and her eyes mirrored the honesty of her words. “It’s such a nice place to live. Small, peaceful, full of nature… There was no question when my rehab ended and I had to choose a place to live. Prescott was always my first option. That doesn’t mean I don’t love Wellington anymore, though. I still do, I always will.” She hurried to add, divining Orlando’s intentions when he parted his lips to speak. “I just wanted to be here. That’s all.”

Having had her opening up about the subject, Orlando felt like the worse had already been done. Gathering up his courage, he voiced his next question.

“How did you end up here? I mean, I know the reason why you came here, but I still don’t know why choosing this precise location. I mean, there are rehab centres everywhere in the country.”

When Zowie looked up at him, Orlando felt like her eyes could see through him. She was studying him, reading him, almost like expecting to see something there she needed to protect herself from. Whatever it was, she didn’t seem to find it thankfully, for she took a deep breath before answering.

“I suppose I should tell the story from the very beginning, right?” She asked with a tone that meant to sound amused, but that failed immensely. “When I realised what was going on, what I was putting you through, what I was putting _myself_ through by being so selfish, I knew I had to do something about it. It nearly killed me, Orlando… I swear to God it did.” She said fervently, and a wide-eyed Orlando nodded, taken aback by her sudden revelation. “Leaving that message on your phone was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. It didn’t feel that way when I left New Zealand, you know? Back then it feel good in all the wrong ways possible. I was punishing everyone for not playing along to the game I dictated, and a sadistic part of me felt so good about it, so… powerful! Now I realise how wrong I was. How _disturbing_ it was.”

Zowie looked up at him, her eyes meeting his as if she expected him to say something. And judging by the looks of it, she expected said thing to be bad. When a reaction didn’t come, she carried on.

“Yet, when I left Ouarzazate, when I left you… I think I left a part of my heart there. It didn’t feel good anymore, and it didn’t feel powerful in any perverted way. It just felt horrible! I knew I was hurting you and I felt like the worst person to ever walk this Earth for that, it killed me, but I had to do it. I was stupid enough to think that it would only hurt for a while, that you’d feel sad for a couple of weeks and then you’d move on, forget all about me and carry on with your life. I had to idea, Orlando… I swear to God, I had _no_ idea it would so bad for you.” She looked at him with pleading eyes as she spoke with hushed, yet fervent words.

Then, taking a deep, shaky breath to steady herself, she carried on with a more calmed tone.

“When I arrived in New York, Elijah had several options lined up for me, every one of them ready and willing to take me in that very same day. We narrowed it down to three centres – one in upstate New York, another one in Michigan, and this one here in Prescott. They all seemed great, but _A Sober Way Home_ was exactly what I needed: a rehab centre focused on the needs of teenagers and young adults. And then there was something about living in a small town, so different from my previous experience in America, that attracted me incredibly. It’s so far away from the major cities, that I instinctively knew no one was likely to recognise me and cause you any more troubles. Back then, it seemed like the perfect place to start a new life. I still think it is.”

Orlando stared at her in silence for a long, seemingly endless moment. Zowie returned his gaze with a calmness and a steely resolve that took him by surprise and moved him to the core. She was a mystery. Back in the early days of their relationship, Orlando had been convinced Zowie was an open book, sharing everything and hiding absolutely nothing. That her candour and her youth didn’t allow her to. But as years passed, he realised he had been mistaken at making such assumption. There were many layers to Zowie, and seven years after coming into her life, seven years during which she had gone through more things that he could comprehend, there were still layers for him to peel off.

She didn’t hide information now; not the important one, anyway. He just had to ask the right questions, and that was a skill he had yet to develop, especially when the anger that had once lived inside him refused to die completely.

But all in all, despite the fury he had felt in the past and the puzzlement he felt in that instant, how humbling it was to hear that he had been in her mind in every decision she made, there was a certain admiration he couldn’t ignore. And many, many questions that remained.

“How was it?” Orlando finally asked, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his mug as his dark eyes bore into hers. “At first, I mean. Coming into rehab, starting the process…”

Zowie sketched a small smile before leaning back on her seat.

“Some patients get into rehab almost by force. Because their parents, their spouses, even their bosses send them in. Others check themselves in, because they realise they can’t go on like that. That they have to regain control over their lives. I fall into that last category. No parent, no spouse or a boss forced me to check in. I did it myself because I needed help.” Looking at him with a glint in her eye, she added. “I wanted my life back. I didn’t want to be a mess anymore and keep on hurting those who mattered to me.”

Her choice of words felt like a punch to his stomach, one he struggled against so it wouldn’t show in his features along with the ominous feeling that accompanied it. Zowie hadn’t mentioned those she _loved_ ; she had only spoken of those who _mattered_ to her. She had loved him once. Wasn’t that the case now?

“You know I did my best to recover.” She carried on, toying with the handle of her mug. “And I succeeded in a way. I never took drugs after leaving LA and you know how badly I wanted it that one time. It was an emotional rollercoaster and it wasn’t going to work for long.” Orlando didn’t need to hear it from her to know what she was talking about. To show her his understanding, he nodded. “The first thing they did when I got here was removing my old implant. God, I was so scared! I thought I would relapse in a second. But I didn’t, because they gave the means to control myself. But then I went to my first meetings, I talked to the counsellors, and as I worked hard on getting better and getting to know myself some more, I realised this was what I had been needing all along: capable people to guide me and things to occupy my mind with to keep it out of trouble. Once I put my life back on track, it was a lot easier to go from there. I understood what being independent meant, and I liked it.”

And it was great that she did but, how would Orlando deal with this new woman whose life didn’t centre around him anymore? Would Zowie one day tell him that the love she had once professed for him was now nothing but a warm memory of the old times, and that she was ready to move on with someone who didn’t awaken as much conflictive emotions as he did?

“Ever thought of going back to New Zealand?” When Orlando spoke, his words were hushed, a mere whisper, a lifesaver he desperately clung to keep his mind from taking the dark, winding path it was approaching.

Zowie nodded thoughtfully, but she took a second to answer, as if the answer didn’t come as easily to her as he had imagined – or expected.

“My mum has been trying to talk me into it ever since I came here. She says that it will be good for me, that perhaps seeing those places I loved back in the day, reconnecting with the people that used to be so important to me might do me a lot of good. I keep telling her that I will, that someday I’ll jump on a plane and visit her, but so far I haven’t. It’s not that I don’t want to.” She hurried point out, her eyes wide and determined on him. “I’d love to walk down Evans Bay Parade once again on a summer day, see the boat sheds down on the shore of Hataitai… It’s just… I don’t know. I suppose I still need time.”

Just like she had needed him in her life once again, Orlando mused. And that right moment never seemed to come until Elijah made the decision for her. Orlando wasn’t going to do that, but he wondered if that wasn’t exactly what she needed to breach the distance between her, her dad and Jewell. He refrained from pointing it out, though; he didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere and the fun they were having, despite the more serious matters they were coursing at the moment.

Busy as he was sipping his Mexican Mocha, the question coming from Zowie’s lips caught him completely by surprise.

“Does your family know you’re here?”

Orlando stared at her, the hot liquid lingering in his mouth as his eyes stayed motionless on hers. Where had that come from? And what did she mean by that? He tried to read something in her eyes, anything that might give him a clue as to what she was feeling, but the blueness of them didn’t give a single thing away. What did it matter to her if his family knew what he was up to?

Zowie too was trying to read him, he realised, but for a very different reason. She wasn’t turning the tables on him, wasn’t trying to divert the topic from her; she just had a genuine curiosity. What had he told his family about this trip? Had he told them anything at all, to begin with? She had never met his mum or his sister; they had always only been names he had dropped here and there when talking about his family. Did they know about her? They must, she mused, when she remembered the disaster in Morocco. What did they think of her? Would they be willing to give her a chance, or had they labelled as a troublemaker who should be away from Orlando’s life? But, above all, what mattered to Zowie was how Orlando himself had labelled her to them. She didn’t want to depend on that to be happy like she had in the past, but the morbid curiosity was still there nonetheless.

After what seemed an eternity to Zowie, whose heart galloped wildly in her chest, Orlando swallowed and, taking a deep breath, set his mug on the table before looking at her straight in the eye.

“I come to America all the time. It’s hardly news for them.” He explained, and Zowie felt her heart dropping to her stomach. What had she expected, anyway? She looked down at her cappuccino, trying not to let him see how his revelation had hit her. She couldn’t deny she was of some importance to him, otherwise Orlando wouldn’t be there in that instant, but the fact that said importance wasn’t as big as she had imagined did sting a little. Or a lot. “On the other hand, they know I’m not here for business. They know I came to see an old friend.”

Zowie nodded, and her eyes lifted as she pasted a small smile on her lips. Deciding she didn’t want to spend any more time dwelling on the topic, she chose to swiftly change it to a safer one.

“Have you talked to Elijah?”

At that, Orlando’s tension loosened up a bit, and a smile played on his lips.

“No, I haven’t, but I bet he knows I’m here, am I right?”

At that teasing remark, Zowie couldn’t help the blush that lightly coloured her cheeks and that had nothing to do with the warmth inside the café. Giving him an apologetic look, she then said.

“I had to talk to him. I was mad at first that he had made this decision for me, but now I have to admit that he was right. He just won’t ever hear that, though. I don’t want him boasting around.”

Orlando’s smile widened, and although a part of him was in a constant state of attention due to the ever present mood swings in their conversation, he still wouldn’t be in any other place.

“I should talk to him.” He said. “But I’m afraid I don’t want him boasting around either. Annoying little thing.”

Before he could add anything, Zowie stared up at him and, although serious, Orlando could say she wasn’t sad.

“I’m glad he did.” She said, her voice soft. “I like this. I like being with you after so long.”

Orlando felt her words hitting him like a tidal wave. Just when he thought he had her, if not figured out, at least understood in a minimal way, Zowie threw all of his preconceptions away. And regardless of how insecure it made him feel not to have a stable footing, he wouldn’t change it for the world. Reaching out across the table, he took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. There were so many things he wanted to say, but of the totality of them, only one came out. However, it was the most heartfelt of them all.

“So do I, Zowie.” He said, his eyes fixed on hers and his hand never leaving hers. “So do I.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

 

_“The love we died for, petrified_

_I wanna know…_

_Does a frozen river flow?”_

**Avantasia - Sleepwalking**

 

“Okay, that was the easy part.” Zowie said as she came to such a sudden halt, Orlando almost crashed into her back. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a wide smile with a hint of cheekiness that should have made him suspect she was up to something right away. “Ready to test how good you are at this?”

Standing there so close to her, Orlando took a minute to assess his options. The Thumb Butte trail seemed the perfect place to start: well groomed, not too steep, not too easy either, and dotted with signs that explained the native wild life to newcomers like him. He eyed it longingly over his right shoulder; the benches, the signs, and the easy, safe path almost too inviting. Over his left shoulder, however, laid a forest where trees dotted a layer of snow that, according to the forecast, should be thinning out soon and, beyond them, the city of Prescott, Arizona. Yet, the moment he looked right ahead at an eager looking Zowie, the Thumb Butte loomed before him.

It wasn’t the highest mountain he had ever seen or visited in his life; there was no way he could claim something like that. But all in all, it was intimidating nonetheless. Jagged and irregular, Orlando eyed it suspiciously. He had no idea what Zowie had in mind, but the mention of the _easy_ part being over made him wary of whatever trick she had up her sleeve.

Looking down at her, Orlando had to push all of his beginner’s fears to a dark corner. He could handle the path, but it was obvious Zowie was no interested in it at all. Having removed her sunglasses, he could see that her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and she seemed so eager, so obviously ready to show him the secrets of the hill before them, to share a part of this new life of hers with him, that Orlando didn’t have the heart to deny her what little joy she could receive from doing so.

“Honestly, I’m not sure I’m _any_ good at this, but since you seem to know what you’re doing…”

Zowie laughed at his comment, her joy illuminating her face. The smile her laughter left behind threatened to split her face in two.

“There are some things I’m very good at, even if I say so myself.” She said, a smug expression on her face Orlando had last seen in New Zealand, years and years ago. “And this is one of them. I won’t disappoint you, I swear.” She added, beaming. “We’re going to leave the main trail behind, and we’ll take a secondary one most people don’t even know about to get to the top. The _very_ top, because the main trail doesn’t get there. I’ll try and be gentle with you, I promise.”

The impish grin that accompanied her last words earned her a mock offended scoff from Orlando before he smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, then. Lead the way, oh you wise one. I put my life in your hands.”

~*~

Oh, he should have known better.

Up until that day, Orlando had fooled himself thinking he was in shape. He exercised often and tried to stay fit, both for his job and his own sake. He lifted weights, jogged occasionally, and basically did what he had to do so tackling physically challenging roles would be easier. By the time they reached the top of Thumb Butte, however, Orlando was ready to throw in the towel and admit he was nowhere near as fit as he had imagined himself to be.

He was _exhausted_. He had remarkably underestimated the effort climbing the damn jagged thing would demand from him, and now his muscles cried for relief. Standing at the very top of the hill, Orlando bent forward and posed his hands on his knees, unsuccessfully trying to catch his breath. The last bit had been particularly hard, and climbing the straight wall with only a few places to hold on to had been exhausting and somewhat terrifying. Taking deep breaths, Orlando gave Zowie a look through his sunglasses, and was slightly miffed upon discovering she was barely agitated.

“You did that on purpose.” He panted accusingly. With a curious look on her face, Zowie turned to him and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Knowing it was extremely silly and immature of him to be so annoyed just for having been shown what he could and couldn’t do, Orlando still couldn’t hold back the accusation that continued to colour his voice. “That last bit.”

Zowie stared at him for a second, until his words finally sunk in. The moment she understood what Orlando referred to and where the obvious annoyance she could read in his entire face came from, an unrepentant grin played on her lips. Putting her hands on her waist and looking at him, Zowie decided to ease his wounded pride.

“I suppose I did want to show off a little.” She admitted, still grinning as if she had done nothing wrong when Orlando huffed angrily and straightened himself. “Sorry.”

She didn’t regret it one bit and Orlando knew it. Waving her off in a way that made her laugh heartily, he then turned around and wobbled a few feet away from her until he found a reasonably flat patch of rock where he plopped down. He looked offended for a few more instants before he eyed her over his shoulder and patted the rock next to him, inviting her over. Unlike his ungraceful tread, Zowie almost bounced her way there, earning herself a disgusted grunt from Orlando as she did. Still grinning like there was no tomorrow, she let herself fall right next to him with a grace that belied the effort they had just gone through.

“Next time, I get to choose the outing. And next time, we’re sticking to the main path.” Orlando said, emphasising the word _main_ as he gave Zowie a sided, meaningful look. “No more secondary paths for me, thank you very much.”

Letting out a soft laugh, Zowie couldn’t control the words that left her mouth.

“And you used to be such a daredevil, Orlando! Bungee jumping, speeding headfirst down a mountain on a bike… Where did all that go?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure, but I have the feeling it stayed somewhere down at the bottom of this thing along with my dignity.”

At that, there was no repressing her laughter, not a single way to put her hilarity under control, and Zowie enjoyed every second of the joy that filled every inch of her being. Feeling like this, this happy, this joyous, this… _free_ , now that was something she hadn’t experienced in a while! That’s not to say she hadn’t been happy to see her family or Elijah, or that she hadn’t been over the moon every time they showed up at her doorstep, but this chance, this opportunity to be at peace with Orlando after everything that had happened between them, this moment given to her so she could show him and share with him something she had grown to love so much… it had to be as close to perfection as it could ever be, especially when their troubled past was taken into consideration. That they could laugh together, that they could joke with each other, was priceless to her. And that she could show Orlando that he hadn’t made a mistake when deciding to fly to Prescott, also warmed her heart.

Sitting in a companionable silence only broken by the chirping of birds and the sounds of the nature around them, Zowie and Orlando let their gazes roam the snowy landscape and the city at their feet. Relaxation filtered through her every bone, and with every passing second, Zowie found herself leaning closer and closer to Orlando, an unconscious part of her – and perhaps a very conscious one, too – wanting to enjoy his proximity in a way she hadn’t been able to in years.

“You know, even though you did kick my ass back down there… and all the way up to here… I do have to admit that it really was a great experience. And the views are great.”

When Zowie nodded to acknowledge his words, she felt the peace around them filling her heart.

“I know. I could spend days up here.” When she spoke, her voice was soft and calm, almost as if she were afraid to disturb the calmness that surrounded them. “Prescott _is_ a peaceful place, there’s no denying that. And yet, sitting up here, just getting here, takes my mind off things. Off everything. Besides, nothing beats a good work out.”

“Yeah, when your body is ready for it.”

Grinning unrepentantly, Zowie gave Orlando a slight push with her shoulder. He barely moved, but looked down at her and smiled.

“There are other hiking trails, you know?”

Rolling his eyes, Orlando shook his head.

“Let’s just focus on how to get down from here first. I’m not sure my legs can carry me downhill as it is.”

It was Zowie’s turn to roll her eyes and shake her head at how dramatic he sounded. Bringing her knees up, she pulled them to her chest and, ever so slightly, leaned closer to Orlando.

“You’re going to be a master of this by the time we’re done here. Mark my words.” As she spoke, her gaze once again drifted to the city below them. Still, she could clearly see, from the corner of her eye, the outline of Orlando as he turned to look at her.

“I have no doubts about that. I have one hell of a teacher.”

A tiny, yet joyous smile played on Zowie’s lips at that statement, and she bit her lip as she lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling very pleased, yet very conscious of herself. Apparently, that day would carry on unveiling astonishing moments, for hearing Orlando praise her touched parts of her that hadn’t been touched in a long time. On one hand, her pride swelled, just not the way it used to in the past. She wasn’t proud to be able to show she was better than everyone else; instead, Zowie was just pleased Orlando had noticed her accomplishment and her achievements. And realising of that difference, knowing her selfish outlook on life had changed so much, and moreover, that she could hold on to that change in Orlando’s presence, made her feel strong and proud of herself and her newly found tenacity.

“Thank you.” She said, the tiny smile still on her lips as she gave him a pleased look from under her lashes.

The feeling that took over his heart as Orlando met her gaze took him completely by surprise, and yet was, at the same time, a familiar one he would always and forever irrevocably link to Zowie. How many times in the past had he felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest, so wild its thumping was when she was around? How many times had Orlando found himself deafened by the rush of blood in his ears her sole presence caused? How late had he given in to it, only to lose her for what had seemed like forever?

That afternoon in Wellington, that afternoon that had changed their lives, had been the first time. But he had been too young, too careless, too immature to understand what this girl that now stared up at him with blue eyes as transparent as never before would bring to and cause in his life. She would bring feelings Orlando had never experienced in his life, bring joy and laughter and love, and would ultimately cause him the biggest, worst heartbreak he had imagined a man could endure. The anger Orlando had felt at her disappearance, the fury at how he had been left behind, alone and wondering, terrified that something bad could happen to her, and that he had so tightly clung to in order to preserve his sanity had, in time, given way to a depression and a darkness that had hovered over him, refusing to let go, until Zowie entered his life once again. He couldn’t say life was perfect all of a sudden or that everything would smoothly and miraculously fall into place just because their paths had crossed again – in fact, there were still many things they needed to talk about – but he did know that having her around made him feel more at peace with himself that he had felt in years.

“I’m not just saying it.” Orlando added, wanting Zowie to know exactly how much he meant it. “You did great back there. You knew exactly what you were doing, you led the way without hesitation… I admire you, Zow.”

The blush in her cheeks suited her wonderfully, and although Orlando didn’t want to overdo it, didn’t want to come across as a sentimental sap, he just had to say the words out loud. Why? Because a part of him was beginning to realise that, after years of wallowing in self-pity, perhaps it was time to let go of that and begin to come to terms with their past; the one they had shared, and his own after that.

Sitting immobile, Zowie looked up at him, her temple resting on her right knee. The way Orlando looked at her had her heart fluttering in her chest, and his words, the sudden openness in them, got her treading on grounds she hadn’t expected… and that weren’t entirely unpleasant in their uncertainty.

“There’s something very humbling about putting yourself in the hands of nature, you know?” She said softly, her eyes never leaving his. “How can you make a rock, a mountain, mould to your whims and your needs? You can’t. And I was so used to having my way with everything, to manipulating everything and everyone, that I needed something to put things into perspective. I couldn’t blackmail a mountain! I couldn’t try and convince it to make itself less tall or less complicated in my benefit. So I had to understand the world wasn’t going to change to please me and, ultimately, that there were other mountains out there that I too needed to climb. Mountains without rocks, maybe, but by no means any less complex. This, for an instance, is one of them.” She finally stated, and with a light wave of her hand, she encompassed them both.

When Orlando stared at her eyes, the way Zowie returned his gaze moved him to the core. This Zowie before him had, indeed, climbed many mountains, and had learnt she couldn’t shape them to obey her will. And in that process, she had grown up. While before there had been an inherent haste to her and her every movement, as if the world rushed past her and she dreaded missing something important, which kept her jumping headfirst from one thing to another, an aura of calm certainty now surrounded her. It still confused Orlando to see such a big change in her, but it also awoke his admiration, for this new air of maturity suited her, both spiritually and physically. And finally, what she had told him before made sense.

“I understand now.” Orlando said suddenly, and Zowie gave him a confused look. “I understand why you had to leave. That doesn’t mean I still don’t wish I could have been there for you every step of the way or that I don’t wish I knew where you were all along, but I do get it was for the best. I can’t help but see how good you’re doing now, and I understand why you needed to do it alone.” Taking a deep breath and looking towards the city, he added. “I just wish I hadn’t caused you so much pain.”

“Oh, no!” In a flash, Zowie was on her knees, her whole body facing his as she took his face in her hands so Orlando could look at her straight in the eye. “There were things… things that you did that indeed cause me pain, but the most of it, the big stuff that led me into my addiction? They were all _my_ doing! Years of therapy and introspection have shown me that.” Drawing a shaky breath, Zowie allowed herself the small pleasure of softly running her fingertips over Orlando’s cheekbones. “What you did to my life… it can’t be compared to anything else in the world. You brought so much joy, so much happiness… so much love!”

For the first time in a long, long while, Zowie felt herself close to tears. With her newly found sense of self came a stability that had assisted her through her entire recovery process, and although there had been tears, which was natural, they were nothing compared to the emotional rollercoaster she used to live in in the past. Now, however, as she spoke those words, she felt a knot of unshed tears taking residence somewhere inside her she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but where it affected her to unknown extents.

None of the words that had escaped her lips before she could even consider them had been a lie, nor words simply meant to make Orlando feel better about himself and about their past. Each and every single one of them had come from the very bottom of Zowie’s heart, where her feelings for him had lived ever since he had come into her life. Ever since he had changed it all. They were all laden with as much meaning and intensity as she could muster in her uncomfortable position kneeling on the bare rock of Thumb Butte, and that same meaning allowed Zowie to feel none of the discomfort that would have otherwise bothered her.

With her hands around Orlando’s face, Zowie looked down at him and realised they were so close, she could see lighter flecks of gold in his dark eyes she doubted she had noticed before. But, how could she have? To her eyes, Orlando had always been shrouded by wonder and an aura of perfection that hadn’t allowed Zowie to see beyond what suited her needs. And now, so close to him, Zowie felt as aware of Orlando as she had yet to feel since he had come to Prescott, and boy had he woken up sensations she had thought dormant for ages! Aware of his feelings, of the understanding that radiated from him and that meant so much to her… aware of his hard, strong body emanating heat that seemed to beckon her own, starved and unsatisfied, like the world’s most powerful magnet would to a simple scrap of metal. But he had always had that effect on her; why was Zowie so surprised? Aware of Orlando’s gaze, trained on her with a hunger that stirred a fluttering deep inside her. And aware of his lips which, moist and parted, seemed to concentrate all her attention. Lips that Zowie had never had the chance to get enough of. And that she doubted she would ever do.

The same ones she couldn’t resist to feel against her own with a need that sang in her ears.

So close they were, Zowie’s movement was almost imperceptible. A slight tilt of her head, a motion of her body that was barely there as she leaned forward, and a second later, her eyes closed as a feeling of familiarity and sheer newness tided her over the moment hers and Orlando’s lips met.

Was she floating? There were no rocks, no cold wind, not a single matter to remain in Zowie’s mind the moment she felt Orlando’s soft and surprised lips against hers, and a little moan she couldn’t have repressed left her mouth. It didn’t make it past Orlando’s lips for his shock at the suddenness and unexpectedness of her actions still had him stunned, but it didn’t matter to her. Just kissing him, _feeling_ him, was more than enough.

And feeling him overwhelmed her. His lips against hers felt just as they had always done – soft, warm, familiar and so very loved. They filled her with happy memories and with hope for a bright future Zowie didn’t dare to nurture completely. And at the same time, kissing Orlando felt like a completely new experience, like something she had never ever done before. Was it the long separation? Were her unsatisfied needs increasing what he made her feel? Or was it that, in those three years, they both had changed and what was new in them had somehow transpired into the kiss? Zowie wasn’t sure. What she did know, however, was that the warmth that began to stir in her was the same Orlando had always awakened in her, even when he wasn’t around. And it shook her from head to toe.

The change in Orlando was so small, it would have gone unnoticed, hadn’t Zowie been so attuned to his every move. His lips, until then tightly sealed, parted ever so slightly, and the tilt of his head was nearly imperceptible; Zowie, however, couldn’t help but notice it gave her more access to him. She struggled. God, she struggled! A voice inside her screamed at her, begging her to deepen the kiss, to fulfil that recurring dream of a kiss that would seal the end of their time apart and that would show her that sometimes, dreams did come true. Another one, nonetheless, told her to keep as much control of herself as she could, given the circumstances. The irony wasn’t lost to her. Once, so long ago, Orlando had told her he had exercised a stern self-control whenever she was around. Now it was her who had to follow his example.

Tearing herself away from him, letting Orlando go and widen the distance between them made Zowie’s heart grow heavy as she, for the first time, realised what could happen from now on.

Just because she still loved him didn’t mean he felt the same way, did it? Just because Zowie had nurtured her love for him for three long years as she sheltered herself in a small town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains didn’t mean Orlando had done the same thing. But even if he didn’t, Zowie wouldn’t feel sorry for doing this. When the impulse hit her, there had been no other way out for her.

Opening her eyes, Zowie found Orlando staring back at her, his face a mask she couldn’t read and that spurred her to say what was in her mind.

“I’m not sorry.” When she spoke, her voice was soft, yet determined, and it showed every bit of the strength and self-assuredness she had earned with blood, sweat and tears. “If this isn’t what you came to Prescott for, if something like this was never in your mind, you can tell me and it will never, ever, happen again. I swear, Orlando. But I don’t regret it. And I’d be lying if I said that I-“

She never got to finish her sentence or her explanation. Her words, as heartfelt and true and laden with honesty as they were, were cut short the instant Orlando closed the small distance between them and captured her lips in a kiss that was brief and perhaps even a little rough, but by no means any less intense. And although Zowie was completely taken aback by his gesture, the way her heart sang as realisation sank in was undeniable and impossible to ignore. Not that she wanted to, anyway.

“Yes, I did come here with other reasons in my mind.” Orlando said after roughly tearing his lips away from hers, and the glow in his dark eyes spoke volumes to her of the whirlwind of emotions that churned inside him as his hands held her face safely and steadfastly between them. “I tricked myself into believing that I wanted to hurt you, that I had come here to force onto you all the pain that I had gone through… but it all flew out the window the moment you stormed into your office. Now I know _this_ is what I came for all along.”

This time, when their lips met, there was no holding back, and every single feeling both Zowie and Orlando had kept bottled up for years surfaced, exploding around them and blinding them with their power. And when it ended, after long and seemingly endless minutes in which they reacquainted themselves with each other, brown eyes met blue ones, and both held a spark that had the same quality their kisses had shared: an undeniable familiarity laced with a sense of newness, of uncharted lands that filled them with hope.

“You know what I should have told my family before coming here?” When Orlando spoke, Zowie was confused for a second, until the question she had made him some days ago came to mind. “That I was coming to get the girl for me.”

It was a long afternoon and, at the same time, a very brief one. They didn’t say much, but they spoke with soft touches, lingering kisses, and the way Zowie finally allowed herself to rest against Orlando. By the time they descended the hill, the two of them had the certainty that the other had changed their life forever.

Once again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

The following few days were a kind of heaven neither Zowie nor Orlando had, in the darkest days of their time apart, dared to even hope for. It wasn’t the kind of perfection that came straight out of a movie, the one Zowie would have dreamed of as a teen, but for her, it was perfect anyway, and that was all that mattered.

They lived a simple life. Every morning, they would have breakfast together at Cuppers, right next to Orlando’s hotel. They would chat about the upcoming day and come up with a plan to enjoy the afternoon and night together once Zowie was back from work. The hours she spent at the centre were, most surprisingly, not long and unbearable, and finding that out boosted her confidence to new levels. Yes, Zowie did want to see Orlando. Yes, she did look forward to seeing him waiting for her by his rented car every night, but she also enjoyed every single minute she spent at work and everything she did there, and discovering her priorities hadn’t changed, that her world hadn’t shifted on its axis just because Orlando was back, meant the world to her. That she could keep a life outside of her feelings for Orlando, that her life didn’t centre around him, strengthened her with every step she took, assuring her that she was in the right direction.

And Orlando not only understood, he also encouraged her. Every day, as they either took a hiking excursion to yet another place Zowie wanted to show him, as they visited the landmarks of the city, or as they simply sat down in a café, they talked. And they talked and talked like never before since meeting each other almost eight years ago in Wellington. And as they talked, insecurities surfaced as well as doubts, and when she mentioned her fears of losing herself, she hadn’t known what to expect.

_Orlando stared at her, his fingers drumming on the back of her couch as they sat there, his right leg propped on the cushions underneath him, the left one firmly planted on the ground as Zowie sat crossed-legged before him. Her eyes were wide and insecure, a consequence of her having just opened her heart and shared her worst fears with him._

_“I don’t want to lose myself.” She had said. “You deserve better than that. I deserve better than that.”_

_The way he stared at her, Zowie could detect a struggle in his dark eyes, as if within him a battle raged between what he wished to say and what should be said; in the end, what he imagined was expected of him. He took her hand in his, and massaging her long fingers with a familiarity that both warmed her heart and made her weak at the knees, he finally spoke._

_“There’s this tiny little sin that I must confess.” He said, a soft smile stretching his lips as if he tried to ease away some of the edge in that confession. Puzzled, she stared at him with confused blue eyes that egged him on. “When I saw how independent you’d become, how self-sufficient, basically how much you’d grown up… I didn’t know what to do. I’m afraid I was used to the other Zowie, the dependant Zowie.” He said with an apologetic smile. “I knew how to handle her. But, above all, I think deep down inside I liked to be needed that way. I struggled with this new person you had become.”_

_Blinking, Zowie studied him._

_“But… why?”_

_Lifting his gaze from her hand to her own eyes, Orlando finally stated._

_“Because I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”_

What could Zowie say to that? How could Orlando ever possibly think she didn’t need him anymore? Her words to him then resounded in her until this day.

_“Back when we met, I loved you because I needed you. You brought something to my life no one else could, but even though you meant everything to me, it wasn’t right. It didn’t do me or you any good and it took me years to change and understand thing the way I do now… that I need you here because I love you. And I’ve lived enough without you to know what that’s like.”_

When had she thought Orlando would be the one showing any signs of insecurity? Zowie didn’t think of them as weaknesses; she considered them as what made them humans, as reminders that perfection might be a nice concept or idea, but that trying to achieve such thing in your life could make you thoroughly unhappy. She knew that first hand, for that was one of the things that had driven her into the mess she had seen herself in.

But for Orlando to tell her such thing, to share such fear with her, such insecurity… it made her heart swell to unknown proportions with the love she felt for him. It made the words of love she had held inside her for so long spill from her lips as if they were the most natural thing to say, with an ease that was almost unfamiliar to her. Of course she had said similar words to those members of her family she was in contact with and even to Elijah, her dear, dear friend, but saying them to Orlando? Zowie would have thought it should have been much harder, that perhaps speaking them out loud would burden Orlando with something that wasn’t his to carry.

Now, however, letting them roll in her tongue and slip past her lips seemed as natural as breathing to Zowie. Just as natural as it felt to hear them coming from Orlando. Actually, perhaps it wasn’t _so_ natural, she mused; Zowie’s heart still thumped wildly in her chest whenever Orlando’s lips formed the words _I love you_ and he looked at her with warm eyes and a smile that made her weak at the knees. She had waited for years to hear those words coming from him, but could now understand and cherish how utterly _right_ they felt in that moment, in that place.

They spent as much time together as they could, and when they weren’t out, introducing Orlando to the finer points of Prescott or its surroundings, they lounged at Zowie’s place. Like they would that Saturday, when they grey sky and the brisk wind outside promised a not so gentle afternoon for those who planned to spend it outside. Which was why Zowie and Orlando had decided to move their plans indoors, where it was warm and comfy, and devote themselves to a promise he had made some time ago: a _Lord of the Rings’_ marathon.

Zowie eyed her TV and DVD player dubiously. The entire trilogy – and that was the version that had made it to the cinemas worldwide, _not_ the extended versions that had been released afterwards – had to last some time around nine hours. Did they really have it in them to sit still for _that_ long to watch a movie? Well, three, actually, but one big story nonetheless? It would have been impossible for them years ago; on one hand, Orlando hadn’t seemed able to sit still back in the day, and Zowie herself would have found something else to do or something else to attract her attention. She had to admit, though, that Orlando seemed to have grown out of those jittery feelings that had kept him running from one spot to the other, throwing himself headfirst down a hill with a bike or repeatedly trying bungee jumping on a single day. He was thirty years old now, after all.

The thought hit her suddenly, and Zowie stopped what she was doing, which was tidying up the breakfast bar. Orlando was _thirty_ years old! Collapsing on the chair behind her, Zowie tried to grasp that concept in her head, as well as why it affected her so much. An image of that young boy she had met so long ago fleetingly crossed her mind; thin, tall, with a head full of dark curls and wearing a yellow sweater she could now admit was awful. The thought brought a giggle to her lips. Boy, had he had a rather interesting taste in clothes back then, or what? But then, more images flew before her eyes: Orlando and his Mohawk, Orlando’s Legolas standing before her, looking so different to the boy she knew, Zowie had to look at him, and _really_ look at him, to see the friend under the elf. Orlando in Los Angeles, bigger, broader than before, his long curls begging for her fingers before they were straightened for _Kingdom of Heaven_. Orlando in his knight attire, him looking at her in his modern day jeans and t-shirt… Orlando looking down at her in the pale, silver light of the moonlight in Morocco, one of the only two nights fate had offered them to spend together. Orlando in her office, years later, the promise of the man she had once known having become a reality that robbed her of her breath. He had been in her life for eight years… _eight_ years! Zowie shook her head in amazement. And yet, they had spent so little of that time together… No wonder why realisation was so overwhelming.

There had been very few people in Zowie’s life that had been so vital, and that had been with her for so long. Besides her family and Elijah, all the others had disappeared from her side at one point or another, for the most varied reasons: either she had pushed them away, or they had left on their own accord. Or had been forced away, Zowie mused, sparing the briefest of thoughts to Matt. She never thought of him, but had come to terms with her past shared with him and her own role in it. There was no way he could be excused for everything he had done and Zowie couldn’t blame herself for it all, but had learnt to deal with her faults in it over the years.

And yet, regardless of the time, of her own cruel behaviour to some of those people and her mistakes, they still remained. And Orlando, although pushed away by her in an effort to spare him of the issues that being involved with a problematic drug addict such as herself entailed, had come back. He had come back for _her_. _His girl_ , he had said. That was what lit Zowie’s heart with a flame so powerful, it threatened to overwhelm her whole. No matter what happened in the future, Zowie mused as she stood up, a renewed energy fuelling her movements, he was going to stay there, by her side. Not only had he said so himself, she too would work hard to make it work.

When Orlando arrived some time later, loaded with two shopping bags carrying God knew what and snuggled up in warm clothes, Zowie couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, keep the warmth and joy she felt, under control. And she couldn’t for they were both born of the certainty she felt. That was why she threw her arms around him as best as she could and accepted his kiss with a smile. When she let go of him, Orlando stared down at her, a delighted yet puzzled smile on his lips.

“Wow, now _that’s_ what I call a warm welcome!” He exclaimed, a little shocked. “What’s the special occasion?”

“There’s none.” Zowie replied with a smile, her hands on his waist covered by the jacket. “I’m just very happy to see you, that’s all.”

“Well, then I’m very happy to see you too!”

When Orlando’s lips descended on hers, Zowie’s entire body buzzed with wonder. That closeness that now seemed so natural, and that they had denied each other and themselves for so long, had come easily, even if with a hint of awkwardness at first. It was easy to desire to feel the arms of the loved one around them, the soft lips they had dreamed of so much, the delighted sighs caressing eager skin, but it had been too long. Their first kiss (and how many first kisses could a couple have? Plenty, Zowie hoped) was born out of Zowie’s wish to prove Orlando that the amazing things he had brought to her life certainly outweighed the pain she had experienced. Yes, the kiss had been perfect and so much more than she had dared to anticipate, but as they descended Thumb Butte, leaving their safe, isolated haven behind and got closer and closer to reality, something had seemed to weigh on them, as if they questioned how far they could go.

Sure, Zowie would never refuse when Orlando took her hand in his, but when they stopped at her door, she found it hard to look up at him. She wanted to kiss him, and wanted it so badly! He seemed to feel the same way, though, for his muttered words brought a mortified yet amused smile to her lips. _“I feel like a sixteen year old bringing his first date back home.”_ His kiss then was soft, but as days passed and they became more open about what they felt, and as they got more used to that too, so did their loving gestures. Nothing else had happened, nonetheless, and although Zowie had soon realised her longing for Orlando hadn’t changed through the years, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hurry the process. Of course there were times when she wished to throw caution to the wind, but she held on to it, not wanting to ruin it all. That didn’t mean the longing wasn’t still there, though, very much alive.

“Uh… Can I come in, or will you let me freeze to death out here?”

Orlando’s words brought an intense blush to Zowie’s cheeks as she tore herself apart from him and let him in, quickly closing the door behind him when, not having his heat against her, she noticed exactly how cold it was outside. Trying unsuccessfully to suppress a strong shiver, she eyed the bags he dropped on the coffee table and frowned.

“What’s in there?” She questioned him as she approached him.

Taking his coat and scarf off, Orlando placed them on the back of a chair – mindful of the tidiness of her place, Zowie mused with an inner grin – and looked down at her.

“The essentials.” He said, stepping closer to the coffee tables and peeking inside the bags before taking a few items out. “Ice cream that had absolutely _no_ risk of melting on the way here, chocolates from Pralines for the lady.” Orlando gave her a wink and then, taking out a few slim cases, he handed them to her. “And the movies, otherwise this marathon will be a complete disaster.”

It was with a slight wariness that Zowie stared at the cases Orlando offered her. From the covers, faces that were much too familiar stared back at her with expression of graveness and determination. There was Viggo, wielding a sword over his shoulder, portraying an Aragorn that was ready to lunge at whatever creature came his way. There was Elijah, her beloved Lij, as the innocent Frodo that was thrown into the adventure that would change his life. There was beautiful Liv as Aragorn’s beloved Arwen, the elven princess willing to give her immortality away to spend whatever amount of time it was granted to her with her king. And then, there was Legolas. Legolas with his bow, never failing. Legolas, whom under the blond wig, blue contacts and prosthetic ears, hid a man who had stolen her heart the moment he had entered her life.

“Zow?” Orlando called, snapping her out of her reverie. “Is something wrong?”

When she looked up at him, Orlando could see doubt in her blue eyes. What had made her feel insecure? Why the sudden apparition of the DVDs had brought that dark cloud to her otherwise crystal clear eyes?

“I just… I don’t know. It’s silly, actually.”

Well, that didn’t tell him much, did it? Going to her, Orlando stepped right in front of Zowie and his hands, of their own accord, posed themselves on her upper arms, rubbing them to transmit some comfort.

“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you, Zowie?”

She looked up at him with open, honest eyes, and sketched a small smile.

“I just… I can’t help but feel it’s going to be a bit weird.” She finally said. When Orlando blinked, puzzled, she carried on, her arms wrapped around her waist. “I mean, I invested so much in these movies… _so much_! And so much happened along the way, what if some of the ugly feelings I had back then come back?”

Orlando didn’t think twice. Releasing her arms, he took her in his own for an embrace as tight as possible as he rained gentle kisses on her temple and her soft, long hair. His heart ached inside him. Zowie had come such a long way, had done so much, that to have her doubting herself right now, doubting her abilities, her achievements… it made him want to kick himself. Why hadn’t he thought about this before?

“We can always skip this if you want to… do something else. But, Zowie.” He leaned back just enough to look down at her face. “I don’t doubt you. Not for a second. And as far as I have seen since I arrived here, neither should you. Yes, there might be some bittersweet feelings while we watch the movies but, who’s not to say there won’t be some funny ones? Or really touching moments you might have forgotten all about? Give yourself a chance, Zowie. And what is even more important, believe in yourself. You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Zowie stared up at him, her heart thumping in her chest. Outweighing the bad with the good. Looking at things that could be potentially harmful from a different perspective. Wasn’t that what she had been doing for the last three years, since signing up for rehab? Looking at Orlando with what she was sure was the dumbest, most love-struck expression she had ever worn in her face, she offered him a tiny smile.

“Thank you.” She said, her arms leaving her body and going around his. “I needed a reality check.”

Brushing her lips with his in a soft kiss, Orlando winked.

“No need. Besides, aren’t you the tiniest bit curious about the Uruk-hai scene?”

His comment earned him a swift pinch in his behind for his cheekiness, and although he yelped, shocked, he grinned unrepentantly at her afterwards.

“Bloody arrogant elf!”

“Hey, you played a bloody arrogant elf yourself once. A _warrior_ elf, mind you, surely very proud of his abilities and his kind. And of his long, perfect hair too, so please, mind your words. I’m partial when it comes to elves.”

Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, Zowie shook her head. Then, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, she gently, albeit reluctantly, extricated herself from his grip.

“Sit down, _elf_. I’ll make some coffee and we’ll get on with it. Did you say you’d brought something from Pralines?”

Orlando’s laughter accompanied her all the way to the tiny kitchen.

~*~

He had been right. There was no need to dwell on the bad things that had happened along the making of the films. There had been moments, unavoidable ones, when memories had struck her and Zowie had shivered, recoiling from the touch of their icy fingers, but she had fought, and she had fought hard. And when she won and emerged once again, Orlando’s smile felt like the sun after a long, impossibly dark winter.

He too watched the movies, but not half as intently as he watched Zowie. He could pinpoint each and every moment she had been surrounded by dark thoughts, but he could also tell when she had managed to push them away, successfully lunging herself to the surface once again. Making these movies was laced with so many different memories for him, but he couldn’t think of a single one that managed to mar the beauty of the experience and what it had offered him. For Zowie, however, it had to be a completely different story. While making the trilogy, Zowie had fallen in love with a guy that was absolutely clueless to her feelings, had discovered her father’s secret, had witnessed her parents’ marriage fall apart and then, to top it all, had taken the first steps into a drug addiction. How could she not shiver in his arms every now and then?

But there had been other moments, too; moments that had made Orlando smile at her joy and eagerness.

“But… where are _you_?” Zowie had exclaimed half an hour into _The Fellowship of the Ring_ when Orlando was still nowhere to be seen. “Why is taking you so damn long to show up?”

That she was so eager to see him had filled with joy and yes, a little pride. Or a lot of it, actually. When he appeared on screen, however, her gasp echoed all throughout his body. Zowie stared at the screen transfixed, eyes wide and lips parted, and Orlando was sure she was holding her breath. That, above any display of hysteria or any comment meant to sucking up, made him feel honoured of what he had done. He had watched the movies before, but this time, he was watching them through Zowie’s eyes, watching _himself_ through her eager blue gaze.

“I remember my shock the first time I saw you as Legolas.” Zowie had whispered at one point, her eyes fixed on the screen. “All I could think of was, how can they transform him so thoroughly?” And then, as the Fellowship fought the Troll in the Mines of Moria and Legolas wielded his fighting knives, a wide smile had touched her lips. “We taught you good, Orlando.” She had added, her smile never abandoning her lips. “We taught you good.”

So as the hours passed and they watch the story of Frodo, the Fellowship and Middle Earth unfold, they ate their snacks and lounged on her sofa, Zowie lying on Orlando’s chest, talking and remembering. The final battle scene of _The Fellowship of the Ring,_ when the Nine are attacked by a horde of Uruk-hais, was one Orlando had been waiting pretty much since the movie had begun. As the scenery began to look familiar and the threat of an attack became obvious, Zowie began to straighten up on the sofa. When the Uruks attacked and she confirmed what a grotesque sight they made, she groaned out loud and collapsed on his chest once more; this time, however, it heaved with laughter.

“Oh God, it’s even more awful than I remember!” Zowie exclaimed, peeking through her fingers. “How did Brooke ever _forgive_ me for talking her into this?”

“She was thinking with her _professional_ head.” Orlando pointed out. “Working on _Lord of the Rings_ , even as an extra hidden under that charming costume, would look great on any Drama student resume.”

Orlando wanted to rewind the movie and try to spot Zowie in the scene, but she refused adamantly, threatening with cancelling lunch if he did. The rumble in his belly got the best of him, though, and by the time the first instalment of the trilogy ended, Zowie looked up at him from her spot on his chest.

“That was pretty awesome.” She said, her face glowing with awe. “You all look so different… and so young! And it’s amazing how I can remember pretty much everything I was part of during the making of the movie. I heard the trilogy is amazing. How can this get any better?”

Grinning at her, Orlando ran his fingers through her hair.

“Believe me. It does.”

~*~

And it did.

After a break to bring the lunch over to the coffee table – boy, had they turned a big pair of couch potatoes or what? – they carried on with the marathon, this time following the disbanded Fellowship in _The Two Towers._ And this time, Zowie didn’t have to wait long for Orlando to show up on screen. He had a much bigger involvement in this one as part of the trio composed by him, Viggo and John Rhys-Davies or his stunt, Brett Beattie. _The Walking Wounded_ , Zowie remembered with a grin. She had freaked out _so_ much when Orlando cracked a rib and she wasn’t around! She had been sure he would stop for a while, take some time off until he recovered, but no… she should have known better. A cracked rib in Orlando, broken toes on Viggo, a dislocated knee on Brett. No one would give up, however, and that was the spirit that permeated everything and everyone while making that movie. Not giving up. Just like she hadn’t in the end, Zowie realised. She too had walked through hell and back, she herself had been a walking wounded for a long, long time. But in the end, she had succeeded.

Still, one thing was for sure: Orlando hadn’t lied to her. True to his word, the movies kept getting better and better, for the increasing action and tension made it hard for Zowie to tear her attention from the screen. The Fellowship, having disbanded, had split in three, and she stared with bated breath as every character faced a different challenge. On one hand, she was filled with tenderness whenever Frodo came on the screen, for she couldn’t think of a less prepared character to face the dangers of the adventure he had embarked himself in. It was a credit to Elijah’s interpretation that, whenever he appeared on screen, Zowie didn’t see _him_ , but Frodo facing challenges that would have terrified a weaker character.

On the other, the most diverse feelings crowded her heart whenever the blond Legolas graced the screen. That awe that had coursed her in New Zealand at the sight of him was still there, but above everything else, there was a sense of pride that refused to leave her. _He_ had done that. He might not have been the star of the movie, but he was an important part of it. And, above all, she had contributed to help him perfect his abilities for his role. She, at merely seventeen years old, had had a part in that immense production and only now, as she watched the movies unfold before her, did Zowie manage to comprehend the size and the importance of it.

Back in the day, she had known that what they were doing was big, but now, seven years later, seven years older and wiser, Zowie now knew how important her job had been there and how incredibly lucky she had been at having if only the smallest chance at participating in it at all. Back then it had seemed like the coolest thing to do; hadn’t she loved sword fighting her entire life, after all? Wouldn’t she be able to brag in front of her class mates about what she was doing? Now she could see she had been a part, no matter how small, of one of the biggest productions in the history of movies, and realisation made her heart flutter. She stole a quick glance at Orlando, who eyed the screen where he, Viggo and John Rhys-Davies ran across Rohan with an indolent smile, laying back against the arm of her couch. If she hadn’t insisted, if she hadn’t bothered her dad day in and day out until he gave in, if she hadn’t promised her mum not to fail in her last year of school and work hard to ace of all her finals just to prove her she _could_ do it, Zowie would have never met Orlando, would have never had the chance to get to know him and fall so completely in love with him. When she stopped to think how things had unfolded from that seemingly unimportant moment when she had heard her dad talk about the project over dinner one night, and how different her life would have been hadn’t she jumped at the chance to ask for a place in it, none of this would have happened. And, perhaps, she wouldn’t be sitting in that couch, in that small apartment in Prescott, Arizona, miles and miles away from her hometown, with a man who had been a constant in her life for the past seven years, a man who was as important to her as the air she breathed. Zowie shivered when she realised how fickle destiny could be.

By the time she emerged from that moment of introspection, Legolas and Gimli were receiving the news of Aragorn’s supposed death at the hands of the wargs that had attacked them and the people of Rohan on their way to Helm’s Deep. She didn’t remember that part of the story, but as minutes passed by and Aragorn returned, carrying the news of the impending Uruk-hai attack, Zowie found herself holding on to the edge of her seat. When the night of the attack finally came, Zowie didn’t realise she was hardly breathing until Orlando spoke, his voice tinted with wonder.

“Three months.” He said, dragging her out of her reverie and of the mental pictures of that time that flashed before her eyes. “Three bloody months standing in the dark and the rain, with the cold freezing my feet through those goddamn thin boots. God, we must have been insane!”

“Yes.” Zowie nodded in heartfelt agreement, her eyes not leaving the screen a single time. “But we loved every second of it. And if you ask me now, six or seven years later, I don’t think I’m wrong when I say that we would do it all over again if we had the chance. I know _I_ would.”

Orlando taking her hand in his and lacing his fingers with hers was the only thing that managed to tear Zowie’s attention from the screen, and when she turned to look at him, she found a look in his face that warmed her heart.

“I’m just glad you were a part of it.”

His simple, yet heartfelt words, sent a wide, joyous smile to her lips and made her heart race in her chest. Still smiling, Zowie leaned forward and kissed Orlando with all the love she felt inside her. When Orlando grinned at her, she surprised herself at discovering her face mirrored his gesture.

“You better turn your attention back to the TV or you’re going to miss your big entrance.”

And he was right. The army of Elves, with Haldir as their commander, was making its grand entrance, and while Zowie couldn’t be seen in that particular scene, both her and Orlando took great care of analysing every face of every Elf warrior that was shown on the parapet of Helm’s Deep, ready to face the Uruk-hai army, to see if she was there.

And she was. Second row, a bit to Orlando’s right, there she stood, weapons in hand and with a very serious expression on her face, which he promptly remarked on.

“I was so focused on _not_ screwing it up!” She exclaimed in self-defence as Orlando teased her. “You have no idea how mortified I would have been had Peter been forced to repeat the whole thing because of me. I would have died of sheer humiliation.”

Snickering, Orlando’s fingers traced her nails.

“I do have an idea… I’m an actor, remember? I have screwed up countless scenes.”

“Yes, but you are an _actor_ , and you were important to these movies. I was an extra with very simple directions: stand there and look serious. How hard could it be?”

Orlando shrugged, and staring at her with a cheeky grin, he added.

“You made a pretty cute elf, you know?”

“I made a cuter elf than an Uruk-hai, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Well, that bulky costume certainly does things for me, but…”

Zowie slapped Orlando lightly on his thigh, but whatever other teasing commentary he made was lost to her, for the battle began, and her awe grew to new proportions. With their eyes fixed on the screen, they pointed things out to each other, remembered moments, mistakes they had made, and grinned and laughed when funny bits came to mind. When Orlando mentioned her 18th birthday, and the small celebration they had had right there, in Dry Creek Quarry where Helm’s Deep had been built, Zowie smiled. Although she had already had her brushes with illegality by then, turning 18 was indeed a big moment for her. Soon, however, she got lost in the midst of the battle once again, but there was one thing, one absence, that was noticeable enough for her to blink rapidly and gape in shock.

“Wait a second.” She blurted out, sitting up and frowning at her TV as the action raged in the fortress. “Wasn’t Liv there? I mean, I might have forgotten some things, it’s been seven years after all, but I _can’t_ forget her being there! What…?” Unable to finish her sentence, she turned to Orlando, who frowned in confusion for a second until he remembered.

“You’re right, she was there, but they digitally removed her in the end.” He explained. “They didn’t think the fans would appreciate it if they turned Arwen into a warrior princess.”

Silently, Zowie stared back at the screen for a few instants before nodding thoughtfully. She imagined that, for such a big production, risking taking a chance with a character by changing everything it was didn’t seem exactly appealing, for it would most likely turn out wrong, at least in the fans’ eyes.

The action absorbed Zowie, and didn’t seem to want to let her go, and it seemed almost too soon when _The Two Towers_ was over. By the time Frodo and Sam embarked on the definitive part of their journey and the credits began to roll on the screen, Zowie turned to Orlando with a sideways smile.

“Shall we go for the big one?”

They did. Armed with big cups of coffee and tucked under a blanket, Zowie snuggled under Orlando’s right arm, ready to tackle the more than three hours of movie ahead of them.

While Zowie knew she should have been exhausted or suffering from an information overload at the very least, she didn’t find it hard to follow the different story lines and characters as they faced the challenges laid for them. She had never read the books, but the story Peter and everyone had weaved was interesting and compelling enough to keep her going after several hours of staring at the screen. She didn’t feel tired, and when she noticed that the light outside her window was just beginning to dim, Zowie was mildly surprised at the discovery, but not once did she stop to think that it might be excessive, which was a testimony to how good the trilogy was. After all, having watched the event leading to this on the screen, how could she call it a day without knowing how it all was going to end?

But it wasn’t just that. Zowie’s interest in the movies went beyond that of a simple movie goer wanting to see the latest blockbuster; her involvement in this was far too personal and too deep to be described that way. This was something she had invested a year and a half of her life, a constant that had been more or less the centre of her existence for its entire duration. Too many things had happened to her, too many had changed in her life for Zowie not to feel any sort of connection to it. This man sitting beside her, the same one who had his arms around her and whose breath tickled her ear, would not be there if those movies hadn’t come to happen, or had they been made anywhere else but New Zealand. Had that been the case, Orlando would have never been a part of her life. And not just that, none of those actors she now saw on screen and that had come to mean something to her, would had never left something in her life. And Lij, the friend that had come to mean so much to her, would have never been there. The thought that someone else could have taken her place, some other young girl in a different place in the world could have taken those two men that were now so important to her, made her shiver. Orlando, thinking her gesture was due to her feeling cold, wrapped the blanket more securely around them.

If the two previous movies had been visually attractive and with an interesting and engaging story, _The Return of the King_ was simply breath-taking. Visually stunning and with an action that made it impossible for her to look away, Zowie commented with Orlando about the other actors’ jobs and watched with bated breath as the final battle for Middle Earth approached. Her heart clenched inside her when Frodo seemingly died, and so close to achieving his final goal at that, and then felt a renewed hope when the Hobbit, once stunned by Shelob’s poison, came back to life but was trapped in the Orcs’ lair. And yet, while she rooted for Frodo and Sam and hoped with every bit of her heart that their mission came to an end that saved Middle Earth, a part of said heart was always, invariably, with that elf that, after so many years, still puzzled her.

That was why she couldn’t help, no matter how hard she tried – and she didn’t try all that hard – to keep her reaction under control when Legolas brought down the gigantic Mumakil and swiftly, and without a single hair out of place, surfed down its trunk and landed amidst the battle as if nothing had happened.

“What the… What the hell?” Stuttering and then blurting the words out with every bit of the shock she felt, Zowie turned to him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed to find him smiling as smugly as she had probably never seen him before in the time she had known him. “Where on Earth did that come from?” She insisted, puzzlement painted in her every feature.

Still smiling like the cat that drank all the milk, Orlando answered.

“Oh, what can I say? I’m pretty awesome like that.”

Zowie rolled her eyes.

“We’re not talking about _you_ here, we’re talking about Legolas. About _that_!” She kept pushing about it, and Orlando let out a loud laugh. “When was that made? I don’t remember any of it!”

“That was all made long after we left New Zealand, I’m afraid.” He explained, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t remember me doing the last bit of it, though? It was the very last scene I made right before I left New Zealand for good.”

Oh yes, Zowie remembered that day well, and the sole mention of it proved her how fresh it was in her heart. Very, very fresh, in fact. So fresh, that the pain of that day so long ago filtered inside her once again, catching her unaware and hitting her squarely in her heart. It took her breath away for an instant, and it was only out of sheer will, and battling for every inch, that Zowie managed to push it away. She didn’t want to wallow in pain and self-pity, not anymore! Why do such thing, why feel that way when Orlando was sitting right next her, his dark eyes fixed on her with concern? Yes, he had left back and yes, it had felt as definitive as it had been heart-breaking, but she didn’t want to feel that sorrow again. That despair she had felt at the prospect of Orlando leaving for good, or at being left alone in a world that had been turned upside down had caused her a great deal of pain, yes, but it had also become the one constant in a world that seemed to change much too fast for Zowie to adjust. Still, she fought hard against the melancholy, trying her earnest to vanish it from her heart.

“I do remember it now.” She said, and her eyes fell on the hands that she now had folded together on her lap. “You have no idea how hard it was for me. It was such a bittersweet day for me, Orlando…” Looking up, she met his gaze. “On one hand, I was proud of you and what you had accomplished. I was happy that it had all gone well for you, that you had made friends there, and that I had had if only a tiny little part in your professional improvement. And yet, on the other hand… it felt like a part of me was dying. The moment you jumped down that structure and Peter said you were done, everything hit me. You were leaving, and my life was such a mess…”

She meant to continue, but couldn’t. Before she could speak another word, Zowie discovered herself engulfed in a tight hug, strong arms thrown around her, chest pressed tight against a firm, strong one, her nose pressed against a throat that convulsed with every feverish swallow.

“I never knew.” Orlando whispered in Zowie’s ear, his voice soft and tight, as if he spoke around a knot of tears in his throat. “When I decided to stay away from you back then, to give you the chance to meet someone else and be the girl you were, I swear I never imagined I was doing you even more harm.” Running his strong hand down her long hair to her waist, he took a trembling breath before carrying on. “Whenever I think of everything you went through because of me, the pain I put you through with my idiocy… God, I deserve to be flogged or something.”

Zowie closed her eyes, taking her own shivering breath and swallowing her own tight knot of unshed tears. For a terrifying second, they burnt behind her closed eyelids and threatened to spill down her cheeks, but Zowie, with that strength she had gained born from the pain she had once suffered, fought them, and fought them hard. When they were finally under control, she took another deep breath and looked up at him, her hands on Orlando’s chest for leverage.

“No, you don’t. We were young and we both wanted to enjoy life. We just wanted different things from it, that’s all. You honestly think I would have ever accepted you if you’d come to me out of guilt?”

Taken aback, Orlando blinked a few times and stared down at her. That old Zowie he had known in New Zealand, so vibrant and full of life, so determined and stubborn… would have she been happy with nothing but crumbs of what she truly wanted? Would he ever? The answer wasn’t all that hard, really.

“No.”

“Then stop feeling guilty. Every single thing I went through is like a stepping stone. They didn’t feel that way in that past, but I needed to go through each and every one of them to be the person I am today. And the person I am today is happy simply because you’re here.” Moving one of her hands until it rested right above the thumping beating of his heart, she said. “I don’t want any more of those complications, Orlando. I don’t want to dwell in the past. What is done is done, now I want to look onwards. I want to look ahead and plan for the future. But above all, I just want to enjoy the fact that you’re here with me. Can you let go of all your regrets and do the same?”

Orlando looked down into her blue eyes, those crystal clear eyes that had been in his mind the past seven years of his life and that had, yet, changed so much during that time. He had thought her lost and yet here she was, in his arms and asking him to forsake all his regrets. Couldn’t he do that effort, so tiny and seemingly easy when compared to Zowie’s?

“I will.” He said, nodding and sketching a small smile, his hand coming to a rest on her cheek with the gentleness of a snowflake. “You might have to remind me every once in a while, though.”

Smiling widely, Zowie rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes never leaving his.

“It might be an entertaining job.” She joked as her hands moved on a caressing fashion over Orlando’s chest. She wanted to reassure him, show him that she wasn’t angry at him and that she meant her promise, but there was also a part of her that craved the feeling of his warm, hard flesh under the tip of her fingers. When they stumbled with his charms as they passed, they quickly backtracked, and for the first time, Zowie let her eyes slip from Orlando’s gaze, letting them fall on the charms. Some were new and some were familiar, and there were certainly some that had disappeared through the years, but the coin remained there, and although Zowie had caught a glimpse of it that first day in her office, the moment her fingers ran over it, a wave of emotion hit her. The tiny kiwi carved in it, the fern, the small 20, the hole she had got done in it… It was exactly as she remembered it, exactly as the day she had found it at her grandmother’s house. Perhaps there were some marks in it that hadn’t been back then, but when she flipped it and a tiny 1977 came to sight, she got a confirmation she didn’t really need.

“You still have it. You kept it all these years.” Zowie murmured with wonder, her eyes fixed on the coin that rested on the tip of her fingers. “I feared that after Morocco, you’d throw it away after what I’d done to you.”

Orlando let his fingers run down her soft cheek, one tentative pad brushing lightly the corner of her lips.

“I could never let it go, especially not after Morocco. It was all I had of you.”

Zowie took a deep, trembling breath before planting a soft kiss right where his throat met his neck. She had asked Orlando not to dwell on the past, but sometimes it was so hard…

When his hand touched her wrist, slipping her bracelet into view, Zowie’s eyes followed his actions.

“You still have your own.” Orlando said, toying with the paua shell.

“It has never left my arm.” Zowie whispered, snuggling closer to him and mildly aware of the movie that was long forgotten now. “Not willingly, anyway. I almost lost it during a hiking excursion once, about two years ago. I was desperate. Out of my mind. The strings had cut loose and I had no idea where or when… I only realised when it was too late. I had everyone in a frenzy looking for it and I was nearly in tears when Tim, this sweet, sweet kid, came to me, his fist wrapped around something.” A tiny shiver coursed her when remembering her desperation back then. In that moment, losing her bracelet would have felt like losing what little connections remained between her and Orlando. “I have no idea where he found it, I never got to hear his explanation… I was too busy hugging him and showering him with kisses until the poor kid nearly died of embarrassment.” Looking up at him, she added. “Had I lost it… I would have died.”

There was something in her words, in their power, in the meaning they carried that simply overwhelmed Orlando. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips had descended upon Zowie’s with a hunger so intense, it was unknown even to him.

They had kissed before; both long ago and recently. This time, however, it was different. It felt as if they finally realised how long they had spent apart, and how close they had come to losing each other for good. Orlando’s lips held Zowie’s captive, but there had never been a hostage more willing than her, trapped in the vice grip of his arms, incapable, even if she wanted to, to end the kiss that banished her every conscious thought into the unknown.

How long did they spend kissing, they didn’t know. They only knew that the intensity of it robbed them of their breath, and when the kiss became slower, softer, more delicate, they had no desire of being apart from each other.

“Never run away from me again, you hear me?” Orlando said suddenly, the minute their lips parted, his voice raspy and breathless. “Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. No matter what. I don’t think I have it in me to lose you again. I just couldn’t bear with it.”

The earnestness in his voice, in his words, touched Zowie’s heart. Resting a hand over his own, she locked eyes with him; those eyes she loved so, so much.

“Never again. I promise.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15**

“That was cheating!”

“It was not!”

“Of course it was!”

“It’s not my fault you got distracted and missed a good chunk of the third movie. It was there and you just jumped me.”

Looking aggravated, Zowie’s lips formed a silent O. Then, picking up a crumb of her cupcake, she threw a quick glance around at the other patrons at Cuppers and swiftly threw it in Orlando’s direction. He swatted it away before it could even hit him, and laughed joyfully at her before taking her hand in his.

“I did _not_ jump you.” She pointed out rather stiffly, yet with a glow in her blue eyes that belied her tone. “ _You_ took advantage of me. That was the last time I let you inside my apartment... God knows what you’ll do next.”

Orlando’s eyes took on a darker, naughty shade that made Zowie blush from head to toe and her heart flutter, but before she could say anything, he added nonchalantly.

“How are you going to finish watching _The Return of the King_ , then? I have the DVDs, remember?”

“Well, I could always invest in buying the trilogy.”

“Nah, you won’t watch it without me. I’m not missing the look on your face at the end of the movie. Quite a big moment for my fans there.”

Laughing with a mix of amusement and disbelief, Zowie shook her head before giving him an admonishing look.

“ _My fans_? Orlando, are you even listening to yourself? Do you have any idea how _arrogant_ you sound?”

Leaning back on his seat with an “everyone-should-bow-before-me” expression that made her roll her eyes, he looked at her as if her previous comment was nothing buy pure insanity.

“But I do have fans!” He claimed defensively, his eyes sparkling with a smile he couldn’t conceal. “Hundreds. Thousands.”

“Oh, yes? And where are they right now, you Mr. Famous Star?” Zowie joked, looking around at the café with a clientele that was completely oblivious to them.

“I’m well camouflaged, see?” Orlando pointed at the dark woollen beanie that concealed his brown curls.

Rolling her eyes, Zowie grabbed her Raspberry Truffle Mocha – a mix that included white chocolate and raspberry syrup – and took a sip.

“If I didn’t know you half as well as I do, I’d really consider you an arrogant bastard.”

Orlando grinned at her, brightly and unrepentantly.

“Oh, but you have to admit that the beanie is _indeed_ a good camouflage.” He pointed out matter-of-factly. “Either that, or Prescott is the place to be. In fact, I’m seriously considering moving over here. No one has bothered me since I got here.”

“Are you saying Prescott is anything like… say, Eketahuna?”

Puzzled for a second, Orlando frowned, the word sounding alien to him. Then, when it finally clicked and things fell into place, he burst out laughing, attracting the attention of some of the clientele around them. Eketahuna, the place where Zowie used to go on spiritual retreats with her classmates and that she absolutely, totally, hated? Yeah, he remembered her tirades about it!

“You almost got me there for a second! Well, I never got the pleasure to actually see Eketahuna with my own eyes…” A snort coming from Zowie interrupted him, but Orlando carried on. “But Prescott’s a really cool place to be. Calm, full of nature. Nothing like London or Los Angeles.”

Zowie stared at him, a serious expression on her face as her hands wrapped around her mug.

“Would you really consider moving here?”

There was something in her question that made Orlando stop and look at her, all hilarity gone from him. Would he leave London behind, or LA even, to live in a place like Prescott? Or any other place of similar characteristics? Sure, it was lovely and, like he had said before, a relaxed place to be where he could be himself and not worry about the constant string of paparazzi that followed celebrities everywhere in bigger places. But could he, used to the excitement and the availability of big cities, get used to a place as different as Prescott? And what would be the one powerful reason that would bring Orlando to make a decision as important such as this?

His eyes once again took in Zowie’s face, staring at her expectant yet calmed blue eyes, her long dark blonde hair falling freely down her back, her pale skin glowing in the sun that filtered through the window at their right, and the way her full lips pursed as she waited for his answer. She was beautiful, and every time he looked at her his heart thumped in his chest, exactly like it had that afternoon in Wellington, but after seven years, he knew there was much more to her than simply the way she looked. What Zowie held inside, what made her the person she was, was what had kept his heart tied to her ever since she had come into his life. Suddenly, the answer to her question from before was crystal clear.

“Well, you like it here.”

Orlando’s words flowed effortlessly to her, but when they touched her heart, they rocked her as if the most powerful earthquake she had ever experienced rocked the foundations of the world. Only the world didn’t shift on its axis like Zowie’s did; it kept turning as before, as if the words Orlando had said so lightly and so matter-of-factly didn’t hold the utmost importance to her. And there were so many things she wanted to say! She wanted so bad to try and explain to him why him saying he would consider moving here just because she liked it meant the world to her, that words simply wouldn’t come out. So Zowie did the one thing her heart begged her to, and leaning over the table, she slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him close for a kiss that said all those things her moved lips simply couldn’t pronounce.

It took them several instants for their lips to part, but when they did and they were nothing but a breath away, Zowie looked deeply into Orlando’s eyes, her heart shining in them.

“I love you.”

Her hushed, murmured words reached a place deep inside Orlando, prompting a similar reaction from him, where he sealed her lips with another kiss; this one softer, gentler, but just as meaningful.

When Zowie finally sat back down, she locked eyes with his, intertwining their fingers.

“You don’t have to do that, you know? Move here, I mean. There are many ways we can make it work no matter what.”

“And lose you now that I finally got you back?” The vehement shake of his head added effect to Orlando’s words, his eyes never faltering on hers. “Absolutely not.”

His words made Zowie’s heart swell with love and joy, for there had been a long time when she hadn’t been sure what would be of them if they ever crossed paths once again. However, the cautious side she had developed over the years, the one she had so often and dutifully deafened when Orlando was involved in the past, voiced some of its concerns.

“Just promise me you won’t rush into anything, okay? I… I’d hate it if things went wrong because of that.”

Her words made Orlando smile warmly at her, and he squeezed her hand.

“Getting cold feet all of a sudden, aren’t we?”

Zowie’s lips stretched on a wide smile, and a bashful blush coloured her cheeks.

“Getting cold feet would mean we’re getting married, and now _that_ would be rushing things a little, don’t you think?”

There was something in his smile, something that she couldn’t quite pinpoint, that made her blush intensify nonetheless. When Orlando took her hand to his lips and posed a soft, loving kiss there, Zowie felt a fluttering in her heart, and had she been standing, her knees would have surely buckled, embarrassing her to death. She loved that man. God, she loved him _so_ much! That he mentioned the possibility of moving to Prescott had caused a kind of havoc inside her only Orlando could create, and Zowie didn’t even want to consider the mention of cold feet; she didn’t want to go anywhere near that. Surprisingly enough, however, the sole thought of marriage – to Orlando or to anyone – did give her cold feet.

Zowie was about to say something, anything to disguise the agitation inside her from those brown eyes that seemed to see too much, when a distinctive vibration in the pocket of her jeans made her jump in her seat. Fumbling clumsily, she reached inside and took the phone out, a huge smile playing on her lips when her eyes fell on the picture flashing on the screen.

“It’s Lij!” She exclaimed, her eyes twinkling as she hurried to answer. “Hi!”

The excitement was obvious and undeniable in Zowie’s voice, and as he studied her talking enthusiastically to her friend, Orlando felt a surge of gratitude to the man on the other end of the line. Elijah had always been there for her. When Orlando had stolen Zowie’s virginity without even knowing, it was Lij who she turned to and who took her in his arms and consoled her when Orlando himself overlooked the monstrosity he had committed. When Zowie needed a hand in Ouarzazate, someone who could help her regain control over her life, it was Elijah who had been on the other end of the phone, lining up options for her to decide the moment she arrived to the US. It was Elijah who stayed by her during the past three years, being the support she needed to finally recover from the hell her addiction had put her through. And finally, it was Lij who had put things in motion by giving Orlando the means to contact this girl he could now admit he loved dearly. If that didn’t mean he owed him a huge _thank you_ , then Orlando was completely lost.

“Oh yes, we’re doing great!” Zowie said, snapping Orlando from his reverie. Regardless of her excitement, she hadn’t let go of his hand, and that simple gesture warmed Orlando’s heart. Her friend mattered greatly to her, but him, Orlando, did too; enough not to let him go no matter what. It might be a reflexive gesture, but to him, it meant a lot more than that. His thumb was caressing her knuckles when she lifted her eyes to his. “Yes, he’s right here.” She said to the phone, followed by a grin. “No, we’re having coffee. At Cuppers.” Whatever Elijah said made her blush slightly and duck her head for a second before she reassumed a more determined position. “You’re talking nonsense. You really want me to put him on? Will you stop blabbing like a dork?” If Zowie’s goal was to sound threatening, Orlando mused, she failed miserably. When she emphatically rolled her eyes and thrust him the phone, his eyebrows rose in surprise. “You talk to him.” She said. “He’s being impossible.”

Orlando snickered. She might be upset in that very instant, but he knew Zowie could never be entirely mad at Elijah, for he now knew and understood the depth of their bond.

Taking the phone to his ear, Orlando spoke.

“Hey there, Lij.”

“You’re welcome.”

Elijah’s words, so full of pride and at the same time so puzzling, left Orlando blinking in confusion.

“Umm… what?”

“You’re welcome.” Elijah said, and Orlando could almost picture the smug expression on his friend’s face as he spoke those words. “But there’s no need to thank me.” He added. “I knew you and Zowie would be back together at one point or another. I just never imagined it would be this fast. Damn, man!” He exclaimed, with a mix of admonishment and admiration in his voice. “I think I need a few tips from you.”

Orlando’s eyes widened in shock for an instant at Elijah’s forwardness, and then burst out laughing, attracting Zowie’s attention, who was sipping her coffee.

“Oh my God, what did he say?” She asked warily, putting her mug down. “If he keeps talking nonsense, don’t give me the phone. He’s being deliberately annoying and it’s a good thing he’s on the other end of the world!”

Orlando shook his head with a smile, and after running his thumb over her knuckles once again, he said to Elijah.

“I think it should be the other way around. I mean, after all, it was _you_ who got the ball rolling, right?”

“That’s because you’re a thick bastard and can’t see what’s going on right in front of your eyes. But like I said, there’s no need to thank me.”

The more Lij said that, the more Orlando realised he actually wanted to hear a heartfelt thank you, and Orlando was beginning to feel the pressing need to say exactly those words, backed by his entire heart.

“How are you?” Orlando asked. “And where are you, by the way?” Hadn’t Zowie mentioned Lij was on the other end of the world?

“England.” Elijah stated. “Doing some pick-up shots for the film I told you about when we had dinner together. It can be a bit dull at times, but hey, you know this business. But tell me about you… you definitely have a much more interesting life than I do!”

“Oh well, Prescott _is_ a really fun place to be at. But you know that yourself, don’t you?”

Elijah snickered, and although Orlando felt like he could use a good sip of his coffee, he was reluctant to let go of Zowie’s hand as their fingers twined so comfortably.

“Oh, yes.” Elijah said, his tone a mirror of Orlando’s. “ _The_ funniest place to be. Who needs London when you have Prescott?” Blowing an emphatic raspberry, he carried on. “Let me guess, you’re being unbearably mushy, hence you could be in the middle of the desert and be happy just because Zowie is right there with you. Am I right?”

Staring at Zowie, who eyed him curiously with wide blue eyes, Orlando grinned.

“Pretty much, yes.” His voice was laden with honesty. Yes, he was being a mushy bastard. A love-sick teenager. But well, so be it. He would worry about it later.

“You’re so doomed, man!” Elijah’s exclamation held every bit of the victory he felt, but the words that followed were spoken with a much calmer and concerned voice. “How are you doing? And how’s Zowie? She sounds… well… happy.” Lij said, for lack of a better word.

At that, Orlando stared at Zowie, looking at her as if he were doing it through a different person’s eyes. She was relaxed, calmed… comfortable in her shoes and with holding his hand in a public place where other people could see them. She was _happy_ , as Elijah had put it, and knowing he had something to do with it filled Orlando’s heart with a joy that threatened to overflow him.

“Everything’s great here, Lij.” Orlando said, his voice low and soft, his body experiencing a stirring when Zowie winked coquettishly at him. “Just perfect. And as for your last question… you’re right. Very happy.”

He could swear he heard Elijah smiling at his answer.

“She deserves to, Orlando. Please make her as happy as you can. I know for a fact that she will do the same to you, no matter what. You have always been in her heart, and if she never tried to contact you before, it’s because she was afraid you didn’t love her anymore. That’s why I did this. I know you must have hated me at first, but I knew that you guys needed this. I don’t like meddling in other people’s business, and yes, I know what you’re thinking.” He hurried to add, as if he could read Orlando’s mind. “But you two needed it. You had no idea where she was, and Zowie couldn’t even begin to come up with a plan to approach you, so afraid she was. I knew it was a gamble, but well… I’m _so_ glad it turned out well!”

“You and I both.”

Orlando said just as fervently as Elijah had. And he wasn’t lying. Now that things were going well between him and Zowie, he could admit to himself the terror he had felt, a terror he had disguised with anger, at the idea of having to go back to London, having missed his last chance with the most important woman of his life. And he wasn’t exaggerating. There had been other women in his life. There were others who were very important to him, but Zowie… the place she occupied in his life was completely different. No other woman had touched his heart like she had, and he knew now that no other ever would.

When Elijah next spoke, his tone was much lighter.

“I was thinking… when I’m done here, perhaps I could drop by and visit you guys? I mean, if you’re not too busy doing things my innocent eyes shouldn’t be seeing.”

Orlando rolled his eyes.

“I’m not the owner of the house, but I’ll risk saying you’re welcome to stop by any time you want.”

“Wait.” Elijah said with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Are you telling me you two guys…?” Orlando cleared his throat meaningfully, earning himself a puzzled look from Zowie, and a bright laugh from Elijah. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint.” Lij said. “But do tell Zowie I plan to visit you two as soon as I can. I want to bask on the glow of my perfect job.”

Orlando shook his head at his friend’s smugness. Looking at Zowie, he then said.

“Lij is kindly inviting himself for a visit sometime soon.”

“Oh, tell him he can drop by anytime. Well, he knows that already, but just in case.” Zowie’s enthusiasm raised a notch at the possibility.

Orlando was quick to relay the message, but before Elijah could hang up, he called his name and said the words he had been meaning to say since the conversation had started.

“Lij?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks, man.”

Although she could only listen to one side of the exchange, the expression on Orlando’s face and the words he said spoke volumes. Squeezing her hand, she locked eyes with him, hoping to convey in them the depth of the feeling that warmed her heart. Her eyes were still fixed on him when he hung up and handed her the phone, and when he, pretty much imitating her move from before, leaned over the table and, slipping a hand behind her neck, pulled her close for a kiss. It lasted far more than a kiss in public probably should last, but it held such intensity and depth that Zowie’s toes curled and her heart hammered against her ribs by the time Orlando’s lips left hers.

“Home?” He murmured against her parted lips.

Zowie nodded, and what she read in his eyes made her shiver from head to toe.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16.**

_“Don't lay our love to rest_   
_'cause we could stand up to the test._   
_We got everything and more than we had planned,_   
_More than the rivers that run the land._   
_We've got it all in our hands.”_

**Bryan Adams, Rod Stewart & Sting – All For Love**

Orlando wanted to walk her home. There was nothing unusual about that, right? Even though her house was less than half a mile away, who was Zowie to say no to such offer? Especially when she didn’t want to? There was no reason to be away from him, and since they had admitted their feelings for each other on top of Thumb Butte, they had been as open about them as they could be. It didn’t matter if it was a public place such as Cuppers; if they wanted to kiss, they kissed. If they wanted to hold hands, they held hands. And if they wanted to walk around Prescott with their arms around each other, stopping every once in a while to steal a kiss here and there, they did. Zowie felt comfortable in Prescott, and could see Orlando did too, and that freed them to do as they pleased. They were careful, of course, when they walked around the busiest area of the town, but other than that, they were themselves and acted as such. But even with that behaviour, there was something in Orlando that day that took Zowie completely by surprise… and that delighted her greatly.

He didn’t seem to be able to take his hands away from her, and the thought brought a soft blush to her cheeks as they stepped out of Cuppers. God knew she had been having the exact same problem all this time, but to feel it in him, even after everything they had gone through, still made her heart flutter, making her feel like a seventeen year old standing in front of her crush all over again. What this man awakened in her, no one else had, and that he still had that power over her stunned her completely. When Orlando, stepping out of the café right after her, closed the door and slipped his arms around her waist from behind, Zowie couldn’t help the tiny shiver that tap danced down her body. Whatever had caused this intensity in him, she didn’t know, but boy did she welcome it!

Orlando’s lips teased her neck, exposed thanks to the open jacket, and Zowie bit her lower lip, feeling weak at the knees… and very shy in her heart, suddenly reminded that, although she knew this man so much, they had only been together intimately a couple of times in all the years they had known each other. One of them, she thought, as she relished on the feeling of Orlando’s lips raining small kisses on the sensitive skin of her neck, shouldn’t even count. The other, however… Zowie’s mind was swarmed by memories of that night in Morocco. Orlando’s hands on her body, his lips, the feeling of his weight on her, how deliriously happy she had felt that they were finally as close as their hearts begged them to… Orlando’s closeness, coupled to the memories flashing in her mind, made her heart thump against her ribs. Biting her lip once again, Zowie struggled to regain some control over her jumbled feelings and thoughts.

“I was thinking.” She murmured, hoping to catch Orlando’s attention and distract him so she could cool herself down some before doing something stupid. “You mentioned Granite Creek the other day… Want to go and check it out?”

Stupid idea, stupid suggestion, but Zowie needed something to occupy her mind before she made a mistake. Not that she considered giving in to her strongest desires for Orlando a mistake, she just… didn’t want to rush into anything. There had been enough rushing back in the day to last her for a lifetime, and God knew she didn’t want this moment with Orlando to have any of that.

Orlando’s lips stretched against her neck, and his smile made her tremble from head to toe. He knew it, for he felt it with every fibre of his own body.

“If that’s what you want.”

Was that what she wanted? Hell no, Zowie mused. She wanted to feel that warm and hard body against her own, but her sanity demanded something distracted her from her crazy hormones before she jumped him like an insane woman. And his lips against her skin? That didn’t help one bit.

Taking his hand in hers, Zowie turned around and gave him an admonishing look, the effect of which was totally lost when Orlando grinned unrepentantly, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously. Zowie let out an angry huff and, with his hand still firmly in hers, took off down South Cortez Street, in the opposite direction they usually took.

While Granite Creek – a small stream that crossed Prescott – was literally right across the street from Zowie’s house, they couldn’t access it through West Goodwin Street, the most direct way to her place. In order to do that, they had to walk south from the Hotel Vendome, Orlando’s temporary home on South Cortez Street, to West Carleton Street. Once there, they would have to turn west and reach the bridge that crossed the creek and served as an access to the Prescott Mile High Middle School. There, at the sides of the bridges, was a clearly marked hiking path that would make their access to the actual stream much, much easier. Zowie hoped that, with lots of cold water nearby coming from the mountains and seeking a way out at Watson Lake some miles outside Prescott, she would find the way to keep a clear head over her shoulders, even if only by association or simple closeness.

So they set off, and Orlando dutifully followed Zowie, his left arm around her waist and pulling her as close as he physically could. There was something he had told Elijah on the phone that resounded in his ears. They were happy. _Very_ happy, in fact. He enjoyed having her near, loved feeling her close to his body, but that last kiss they had shared in the café and, mostly, the way Zowie had responded to it… it had awakened something inside him Orlando couldn’t ignore. He had no way of knowing his thoughts ran down a path much too similar to Zowie’s, yet all he could think of was that night in Morocco, and how sharing it with her had filled something inside him that had nearly been torn apart when she disappeared. But it had persevered, and albeit unbeknownst to Orlando, he had protected it in the safest part of a heart he had thought would break in her absence. He now knew that tiny light of hope he had sheltered there was what kept him going the past three years, and that it now burned again, gaining intensity with every day he passed beside her. Nonetheless, Orlando wanted it to burn as blindly as never before, hopefully strongly enough to erase the traces of a past he still felt guilty about. And for that, he needed to be as close to Zowie as that night in Morocco.

He needed to feel her, needed to hold her, kiss her and touch her as freely as his heart begged him to.

Nevertheless, if Zowie felt she needed to show him the creek right across the street from her place, then he would go to the creek right across the street from her place. What he couldn’t promise, however, was that he would remain passive and away from her, not when her shivers and tiny, little repressed moans fuelled him so much. Orlando didn’t want them to be repressed anymore; he wanted to hear them caressing his ears freely.

Zowie pointed at some things here and there, talked about the houses right in front or next to his hotel that seemed to be over a hundred years old and that, in some way, reminded her of Wellington. There was something about a young country, she said, referring to both the United States and New Zealand, that spoke of hope and new opportunities, and that last bit stroke something in Orlando’s heart. New Zealand had been an opportunity, the best he had ever had to build a career in what he loved most, but the United States meant an opportunity to build something new and much stronger with Zowie, so he could relate to that with all his heart.

Orlando wanted to be with Zowie, there was absolutely no doubt about it, and he wasn’t joking when he said he would consider moving to Prescott. If that was what he had to do to be near her, then, well… that he would do. That small town might not be Los Angeles, it definitely wasn’t London or New York, but it had its charm and a peaceful aura that had slowly got into him. And then, above everything else, Prescott had Zowie. Perhaps it was time he took the step into the next phase of his life, Orlando mused as he glanced down at Zowie as she walked in silence with a happy smile on her lips. Perhaps it was time he entered adulthood for good, and if he was going to do any of that, then the woman beside him was the one he wanted right next to him when he did it.

Sighing happily, relaxation easing into every inch of his body, Orlando enjoyed the sunny, warm day of February that defied what he had seen of Arizona’s winters in the weeks he had spent there. It seemed many of the locals had the same intention, for they crossed many people in their path with smiles on their faces and the collars of their jackets undone, as if wanting to absorb as much of the mild winter sun as they possibly could. He didn’t know whether it was the weather that dragged the attention of passers-by away from them or that they simply couldn’t care any less about the couple that, so much like them, wanted to soak up in the sun, but not a single person they walked past gave them a second look. Even when they walked so close together they were about to become one, when his arm held Zowie firmly around her shoulders or when her own surrounded his waist as if she didn’t want to let go, not a man or a woman taking a walk in Prescott, Arizona that day, and that crossed paths with them, gave them any importance. They were just another couple to them, Orlando thought. Just another couple in love. And for him, who had been subjected to the scrutiny of the public eye for almost as long as he had known Zowie, that meant the world. Zowie and peace, that was what this town offered him. How could he say no to that?

The way to Granite Creek, albeit short, took longer than Zowie had expected. Not that she minded, of course; she simply couldn’t resist Orlando’s charm or his seduction when he stopped her to steal a quick kiss… or a long one that made her toes curl in her shoes. By the time they reached the bridge that crossed the creek on its way to Mile High Middle School, Zowie’s senses were completely inflamed. Every kiss, every touch, was bringing something to life inside her that Zowie could barely hold under control. And to think she had hoped a quick visit to this bit of nature nestled in the middle of Prescott would distract her from her most basic thoughts! How innocent of her, she mused now, as her lips reluctantly left Orlando’s after a slow kiss that had affected her particularly, bringing a tingle to her body she realised she would love to keep there at all times. In the name of decency, however, she had to extricate herself from him – and truly so, for Zowie couldn’t, for the life of her, remember how her body had become so tangled with Orlando’s when they had been two separate entities until what? Seconds, minutes ago? – and taking a deep breath, she pointed over his shoulder.

“That’s the Granite Creek Trail. It’s only a few miles long, but it makes for a great walk on sunny days such as this.” Why did she feel like Tour Guide Barbie from _Toy Story 2_ all of a sudden? And why was she talking about such things when, pressed flush against her body, she could feel Orlando’s hard and lean figure? If that was the way she nowadays handled the strong feelings that burnt inside her… she needed to sit down and redefine it, Zowie mused. But it would not happen in that exact second, not when Orlando’s warmth surrounded her, for she could barely think straight when he was around and so very close to her. “Oh, look.” She said, pointing at the signs behind him that signalled what could and couldn’t be done in the creek. “It says _Keep pets on a leash_. I forgot to bring yours.”

Orlando smiled at her comment, sharing her hilarity. However, the way he inched closer to her, the way he looked into her eyes with dark flames burning in his own gaze, made her tremble from head to toe. There was something in his smile… something so decidedly naughty, so cheeky and, at the same time, oh-so-promising, that Zowie’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest. It was as if Orlando could think of a number of uses for the aforementioned leash, and none of them included a silly walk down a silly hiking trail. Or was it just Zowie’s inflamed and overstimulated mind that simply couldn’t think straight with Orlando standing so close to her? She didn’t know. And she doubted she would ever find the answer to that question while he stared at her that way.

Smiling at her as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind, and as if he relished on every single one of those thoughts, Orlando turned around and nodded in the general direction of the signalled trailhead.

“Shall we?”

And it was very innocent at first. Orlando seemed genuinely interested in the creek, that little patch of preserved nature that surrounded them, about the hiking trails that crossed and surrounded Prescott and the possibility of, maybe, taking the time to do them all in a not so distant future and, above all, about a possible visit from Elijah. Zowie was excited, because it had been a while since she had last seen her friend. She was used to going through some, sometimes, long intervals without seeing him because of his job; still, any chance to have him over was a motive of joy and planning. Yet, no matter how many things they talked about or how many plans they made for Elijah’s possible visit, they still remained painfully aware of the each other sitting so close.

Orlando sat so close to her, Zowie could even feel the play of the muscles as he moved. And that seemingly unimportant matter, something she had felt countless times before and that was hardly surprising by now, affected her immensely. Because she wanted to feel it all over him. She wanted to feel it under her palms as she touched him as freely as her heart begged her to, as she herself offered to receive the same treatment from him. Why did she feel that way? Why, all of a sudden, Zowie couldn’t think of anything else but her craving for a physicality they hadn’t had in years? Why did all her body seemed aware of every move Orlando made, every breath he took, of the way his body brushed hers in manners that were completely innocent? What was it with her?

Zowie wanted Orlando. She desired him. Craved to feel every inch of his skin against her own. And none of the previous times they had been together could have ever satisfied a desire that had been burning inside her for as long as her love for him.

This was the man Zowie had decided would be her first. Within hours of knowing him, she had whimsically determined Orlando would be the man she would give her virginity to, and as months passed and she got to know him, that determination had only intensified because her feelings for him. And although the experience itself hadn’t been exactly the stuff rosy, romantic, teenage dreams were made of, Zowie could now see she had brought it upon herself. She didn’t regret giving herself to Orlando; she just wished she had had enough presence of mind to do it under better, more appropriate circumstances.

He was the man who had picked up the pieces when she hadn’t been able to nor had known how to do it in Morocco. The man whose touch and whose loving had made her feel alive and worthy of someone else’s affection. Somehow, Orlando had weaved a magic that had made her feel alive, and Zowie craved to feel that way again. She did feel alive on her own, she did understand now her own value and her own worth, but there was a completion only Orlando could bring. And she was desperate for that, for the longer they spent together, the bigger the need grew inside her.

If only she knew what a similar path Orlando’s musings had taken…

Difference was, he wasn’t going to be all thought and no action. So when his knuckles innocently brushed her soft cheek and Zowie closed her eyes, leaning in closer to his touch and parting her lips to let out a little moan he was sure she didn’t even realised she had produced, he knew he was gone. That moan ran down the entire length of his oversensitive body, teasing him and sending him over the edge of propriety. If Zowie was so affected by a touch so simple, so innocent, how was he expected to control his urge to see what his kisses did to her?

He couldn’t. No one could possibly expect Orlando to control himself when in his arms was the same woman that had never left his mind for the past years. Although deep down inside a voice cried for him to be gentle with her, he simply couldn’t restrain what had been unleashed inside him. Orlando’s lips, eager and wanting, promptly followed the trail his knuckles had set; they just didn’t stop there. Before Zowie could whimper in complaint, or even consider doing so, his mouth had captured hers for the kind of kiss that had been in his mind ever since they had left Cuppers. Under the shelter of the leafless branches that canopied the creek, in the anonymity of that bubble of raw nature that concealed them and protected them, Orlando’s lips took complete control of hers, and it wasn’t long before Zowie, without realising or even knowing how, was straddling him, his hands holding her head steadfastly between them so his kiss could plunder and devour her mouth as he pleased.

And there was no way, absolutely no way, Zowie could have denied him anything. Neither could have she denied herself. Her hands, with a mind of their own, tangled themselves on his curls as she whimpered helplessly in his mouth. Dear God, she had forgotten what this man made her feel simply by feeling him so close to her! Even though his hands were still fixed around her face, holding her in place and making her feel helpless and incensed, all at the same time, Zowie’s body felt as if flames had sprouted from the ground beneath them and were licking at every inch of her. She could feel, even through her jacket, the hardness of his lean form pressing tight against hers, and although it was mildly satisfying, it was nowhere near enough.

Zowie needed, wanted, _craved_ to feel it all. Freeing his curls, her hands flew to the zipper of her jacket, undoing it with such eagerness it was a miracle it didn’t get stuck. Orlando had done the job himself a long while ago, and when she was finally free of the confines of the restricting garment, Zowie’s front glued to Orlando’s, and the moan that escaped her mouth was mirrored by his. It was a gesture of recognition, of coming home, of feeling something by your side that had been long lost. And yet, at the same, it spoke of newness, of feelings that had yet to be discovered, of a joy that promised so much more than she had dared to imagine. And Zowie had had enough time during the past three years to imagine lots of things.

But so had Orlando, and the moment she pressed her body so close to his, his hands abandoned her face and slid down her body in a slow, ever-so-conscious trip that was meant to help him reacquaint with her. Slipping under the barrier of her jacket, Orlando’s fingertips brushed down her figure, feeling rises and slopes that left him gasping for air, and that he managed to avoid out of sheer willpower. He still teased himself with them though; just barely, eliciting a whimper from Zowie when the tips of his fingers brushed the curve of her breasts with a lingering touch. Then, his hands set on her waist in one last desperate attempt not to suddenly change their positions and do by the creek what his body cried for him to do.

Zowie had other ideas, however. Her own hands weren’t so shy, and although it took every bit of her strength to pull away from him even just an inch, she let them wander as they pleased, loving every single second. Somewhere in the back of her mind Zowie remembered how bulked up Orlando had been while in Morocco, and although his physique was not as large now, she had absolutely no reason to complain. His shoulders, what she could feel of his biceps, his pecs… Zowie felt lightheaded, and the low grunt that slipped between Orlando’s lips might have had something to do with it. When her fingers teased his abs, however, and moved only a whisper of an inch below, it seemed to be more than Orlando could handle. He jerked his lips free of hers, and he pulled her close to him; so close, her hands were trapped between them and her body was pressed flush against the evidence of his reaction to her touch. And _that_ was more than Zowie could handle.

With their foreheads pressed together, Orlando and Zowie panted, their breaths mingling, their heart rates skyrocketing as their bodies begged for more. More closeness, more skin, more heat… _more._ More of the other, more proximity, more of the act that would bring them closer than any other.

“I can’t…” Orlando murmured hoarsely between gasping pants. “Stop or I’ll-“

“I don’t want to stop.”

Although Zowie didn’t look the least bit surprised by her words – in fact, she looked as if every single one of them had come straight from her heart – Orlando couldn’t possibly be any more flummoxed. He tried to reason with her, but the moment her name left his lips, Zowie moved ever so slightly, and her warmth enveloped his arousal, sending him over the point of any control.

“I don’t want to stop.” She repeated, her voice barely a whisper, yet a determined, controlled one that reached the deepest, darkest corners of Orlando’s heart and soul, the ones he kept hidden and concealed, safe from the world. “I want this. I want _you_. Please, Orlando.”

He could have shaken his head, hadn’t he been so enthralled by the look in those crystalline blue eyes fixed on his. As if Zowie had _ever_ had to beg! In that instant, in that creek barely out of sight from a city that carried on with its normal life as if nothing incredible and life-changing happened in its very heart, it was Orlando who was ready – willing, actually – to beg if only for the lightest, most innocent of touches. Whatever he got from her would make him happy. Orlando hadn’t had Zowie by his side for three long years, why would he shy away from anything she gave him? But if she asked for more – so much more, in fact – there was absolutely no way Orlando could ever say no to her. He wasn’t that strong. He wanted her, desired her, craved to feel her every inch pressed tight against him.

“You sure?” Was that his voice? It sounded so soft and insecure, Orlando could hardly recognise it as his own.

Zowie could have laughed, hadn’t she been so wound up. Still, a tiny smile played on her lips as her eyes never left his.

“Oh, believe me… I am. And stop looking so scared, or I’ll start thinking the sole idea terrifies you.”

Orlando blinked stupidly. Terrified? Scared? Nothing could possibly be any further from the truth. If anything, he was wondering whether he would make it anywhere without losing his sanity in the meantime. How he did it, he would never know, but seconds later, Orlando had Zowie on her feet after giving her a brief, hard kiss that promised things that made her weak at the knees.

On their way to Zowie’s apartment, there could have been a wild fire, a thunderstorm, a hurricane, cars piled up after a horrible accident… they would have noticed none of those things. Need gripped at them, and they could hardly step away from each other. And, strangely as it may seem, Zowie felt none of the nervousness or the anxiety that had plagued her in similar circumstances before.

There had always been a certain insecurity in her before, an uncertainty that had kept her, at least on the very early stages, from fully enjoying what was going on. In New Zealand, it had been the awareness of Orlando’s drunken state, of the misery of finding out that her dream experience was going down the drain. In Morocco, while feeling free after admitting the darkest parts of her past, knowing something might be really wrong with her and that she might pass it on to Orlando had been a storm cloud in her heart. Now, however, there was none of that. For the first time in her life, in her relationship with Orlando, Zowie felt certain. Certain of herself, of what she felt for him, and of what she expected from him and what she was willing to give in return. She wanted this, and was willing to give her all to make this relationship with Orlando work for once and for all. No more secrets, no more lies; now Zowie knew where she stood, and her heart was just as certain.

That aura of certitude that surrounded Zowie almost visibly, that emanated from her in a way that seemed to touch him physically, Orlando couldn’t help but notice it. And as he did, he welcomed it, allowed it to embrace him, to seep inside him, letting it take him wherever it pleased. In the meantime, he held Zowie as close to him as he physically could, anticipation building inside him. She certainty made him feel more at ease, less anxious about what was going to happen. And why would he feel anxious, anyway? It wasn’t the first time they were together like this. It was, however, the first time they embarked into this sort of intimacy with what he would call a clean slate. They both had come a long way, knew what they felt, and there were no more secrets between them. And this time, being together wouldn’t come as a way to reassure something that wasn’t entirely there or to reaffirm wounded self-esteems. This time, it would be all about them and their feelings, and Orlando couldn’t wait.

They did steal a few kisses on their way home, but even then, it didn’t take them long to reach Zowie’s apartment. The moment Orlando closed the door behind them and he stared at her, all time stood still. They faced each other, wide-eyed and with bated breath, perfectly aware that this moment would cement everything that was to come for them. They took in the sight of each other hungrily, greedily, wanting so many things and yet, at the same time, not knowing where to begin, unsure as to what step they would take next.

Orlando studied Zowie from head to toe. The girl he had once known was gone, lost in the sharper, more defined features of adulthood. And yet, the essence of her was still there. It was in her blue eyes, in her long blond hair, in the hint of a smile he could see in her lips… and in the glow that surrounded her, bathing her with joy. The girl who had always showed him optimism even though her own life spiralled downwards to disaster, the one who had once known that the one thing he needed the most was peace, and instead for a pricey gift, had given him the _mala_ beads that had always helped him achieve a calmed state of mind. The one who had always put him first until she realised the one person who should always be first and foremost in her mind, was herself. And he didn’t mind that. He had once been reassured in her devotion of him, had doubted and felt insecure of what he would do and how his heart would cope with that change, but as he stared at her, the worries in his heart were finally put to rest. If Zowie didn’t understand her own value and her worth, how would she ever be entirely happy in a relationship, not just with him, but with anyone? He was determined to show her that he understood, that he loved her, and that he would be there for her for as long as she desired to have him by her side. Hopefully, Orlando mused as his tongue ran over his suddenly dry lips, that amount of time would extent to forever.

Zowie’s heart did a somersault in her chest when she noticed the way Orlando stared at her. His dark eyes shone with need, but it was the devotion and love she could see in them what moved her to her very core. He loved her. _Orlando_ loved her. And although he spent a great deal of time reassuring her of that simple fact, a part of her still managed to feel doubt about it. But looking at him, seeing his feelings plainly written in his loving gaze, filled her with a warmth that put those doubts to rest. She wanted to show him, from the bottom of her heart, that she too felt the same, and that the devotion she could see glowing in those brown eyes that had haunted her for years and years, that had made her laugh and cry, had a match in her heart. A heart that had loved him like it had loved nobody else before – or after.

Who took that first step forward? They didn’t know. It could have been him or it could have very well been her; it didn’t matter. When they met in the middle, however, the kiss they shared opened a door that had been tightly sealed in both of them for years. Memories flooded them, and they allowed them to carry them away with joy in their hearts as they clung to each other.

There was no room for speaking. Every action was slow, almost premeditated, meant to ensure the magical quality of the moment and to cement it around them. There were no rushes, no clumsiness, and soon their jackets lay discarded on the couch in Zowie’s living room. They couldn’t step away from each other, felt a part of them would be torn away from them if they did, and although their need was great, they took their time to head into Zowie’s room, piece of clothing after piece of clothing landing on a heap at their feet. Their hands were slow in their path over each other’s exposed skin, eliciting moans and gasps that barely managed to escape between their lips as their hands reacquainted themselves with bodies that had been apart for much too long.

Soon, however, a simple touch wasn’t enough anymore. Soon, the feeling of skin against skin simply wouldn’t suffice.

And when their bodies joined, it was everything they had expected – and more. Warmth, light, a brilliance that blinded them surrounded their bodies in a cocoon they built for themselves, to protect each other from the outer world. All the time, hands remained entwined, eyes remained locked, their lips unmoving as their bodies did, speaking for them with actions that reached their hearts and that made them shatter in a million pieces when bliss struck them so wonderfully.

Afterwards, there was silence. No words needed to be spoken; not when their eyes, their bodies, the light that still shone around them said it all. Why speak out loud and break that magic? Orlando’s eyes told her that he loved her, and Zowie’s returned the message with just as much warmth and devotion. They didn’t need to say nothing at all. Their love was clear and obvious, and as long as it sheltered them in its light, they would be safe. That was all Zowie and Orlando needed to know as they lay on the warm and loving embrace of each other’ arms.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17**

_“The secrets that two lovers share_   
_Should never have been betrayed”_

**Rolling Stones – Blinded By Love**

_No, no, no._

_Please._

_Please don’t let me wake up and realise this was all nothing but a dream._

_Please let me believe there can finally be some justice in this world for us._

_Please._

Orlando’s eyelids sealed tighter, refusing to let in if only the tiniest hint of light, the smallest ounce of reality to filter through them. He didn’t want this illusion he was living in, the one he clung to with all his might, to be ruined. Orlando wasn’t sure how he would cope, should that be the case.

In his dream, everything was peaceful. Alight. Zowie lay on her back beside him in her soft, warm bed, her long hair spilling down the white pillow, tangled in his fingers as if they were afraid she would escape while he couldn’t see. In his illusion, the hours they had spent together, the beginning of a new day that had found them there, were a new day that promised a new era in their relationship. And it seemed so perfect, Orlando feared to wake up and realise it was nothing but a dream. A pleasant, heavenly one, but a dream nonetheless. A cruel, evil trick of his imagination.

But there was no escaping reality. Regardless of Orlando’s need and urge to hide, cower away from it, there would come a point when he would have to open his eyes and face the new day, with everything it brought along. Taking a deep breath full of dread, even the most optimistic side of Orlando’s heart couldn’t fight the feeling of impending doom that invaded him as he prepared to face reality. After all, how many times had he woken up from a dream that had left him heartbroken and feeling like what lay ahead was simply unbearable?

He opened his eyes nonetheless. He had been awake for some time now, so there was no clinging of his eyelids holding onto the last threads of sleep like so many other times before. This time, it was reluctance what struggled against his determination to see what laid ahead. Orlando won, nonetheless.

The first thing he noticed upon facing reality was the light. Light bathed the room, pouring over everything and touching him with its glow, a momentary balm to his anxious heart. Orlando swallowed, his throat working over the knot there. While the light did match his dream, he had no idea what else he would see. Tearing his eyes from the roof was hard, but he hoped against hope that the reward would be exactly what he had been dreaming of for the past three years.

Orlando’s heart stopped beating.

And then, it resumed doing so. This time, however, it beat double its normal speed.

Everything was peaceful. Alight. Zowie lay beside him in her bed, her long hair spilling down the white pillow, just as he had pictured. Only difference was, she didn’t lay on her back the way he had pictured. Zowie laid on her side, her back to him, and for the first time since opening his eyes, Orlando could finally breathe. His lungs burnt, starved as they were, and he blinked, almost afraid she would disappear in the blink of an eye. When she didn’t, when Zowie remained exactly where she was, Orlando sat up on the bed, the covers falling from his body as he stared down at her, an awed expression on his face.

She _was_ there. And it wasn’t a dream; he could tell that from the way his skin prickled with goose bumps in reaction to the slight chill in the air of her bedroom.

The covers went up as far as Zowie’s neck, but her hair; that long, beautiful and soft hair he had played with all through the night, that had tickled his skin as hours passed, was clearly visible, stretching out to him. Orlando followed its path with his eyes, up and down and back to her face, where the peace he found there was the one thing that managed to still, at least some, his thundering heart. She looked relaxed, as if not a worry clouded her mind. But above all, she looked absolutely striking.

This woman, Orlando thought, had changed his life. Little had he known how important she would be to him when they met, when he kept her at an arm’s distance to keep her from suffering. He had given her up once. So had she. Now, however, he was willing to fight anything and anyone that came their way. What Orlando felt when he was with her, he hadn’t felt it with anyone before in his life, and he would be damned if he ever gave her up again.

With a mind of its own, without a second thought or further consideration, Orlando’s hand slipped under the covers to run up and down her arm. She was soft all over, and he could have spent a lifetime sampling it with the tips of his fingers. He didn’t rush. Why would he, after all? He wasn’t going to let her get away this time. She had grown up, felt stable and comfortable in her shoes, had grown to know and love her worth. So had he. No matter what the future threw at them, they would make it work. He was sure of that.

The tip of his fingers, still in their curious journey, left Zowie’s arm and moved down her back, following the slope of her spine down to her waist. Memories of the previous night flooded his mind and his fingers lingered there, finding a resting place in the curve of her waist, where they briefly stopped before continuing the journey upwards. Pulling the covers aside just enough, he followed the path of his hand with his eyes until both met the rise of an old, faded scar. There, they stopped, and Orlando’s heart thudded in his chest. Zowie had gone to hell and back, he mused, and had the scars to prove it. But like all scars represented pain, they also represented growth, rebirth, maturation, and Zowie’s definitely did.

Once, years ago, Orlando had thought his love was all she needed to get better. That no matter what happened around them, he would make everything work for her. Now he knew better. It had taken him three years of walking in circles and banging his head on the wall every single time to understand how wrong he had been. Yes, his love was important to her. It had always been. And yet, the more time he spent with her, the easier for him it was the understand Zowie’s need to get away from everything and everyone to heal and grow in her own. Now both of them were adults. Their lives weren’t worked out beforehand and laid out in a path for them to take, but they knew what they were doing and why. But, above all, there was no guilt involved. If there was any chance in the world their relationship could finally work out, it had to be now. And God helped him, Orlando _would_ make it work. No matter what.

Leaning forward, he posed a light kiss, his eyes closed, on the irregular skin of her scar. No more scars for Zowie. No more pain, he promised himself.

He didn’t want to leave Zowie’s side, but apparently, his body had different ideas, and when his stomach rumbled loudly in the silence of the room, he reluctantly got up. Not making a noise and making sure Zowie was once again snuggled up so she could sleep for as long as she pleased, Orlando grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor with a smile on his face. After a quick stop on the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen, where he intended to prepare a breakfast that would put all breakfasts of the world to shame. Rummaging through Zowie’s well-stocked pantry, he found everything he looked for and more, and set to prepare his first treat of the day. A grin, surely a goofy one, he mused as he put water on the kettle, played on his lips at the thought. He would shower her with treats from now on. But he had to start somewhere, and that breakfast would do just fine.

Orlando had no idea how long he had spent in the kitchen, trying not to make too big a mess of it as he cooked, when he realised he hadn’t checked his cell phone for the most part of the past twenty-four hours. First he and Zowie had been busy out, and then… the smile still danced on his lips as he walked to the living room and slipped the phone out of his pocket. It still lingered as he unblocked the phone, but it froze on his lips when the message alerts displayed on the screen.

_Where the hell are you? Call me right away. Pictures of you all over. F_

Orlando stood, as if nailed to his spot, as his fingers anxiously worked on the screen, opening messages and links Fiona, his agent, had sent him, the world falling apart at his feet as he did.

Zowie looked beautiful in the pictures. Long hair shining under the sun, a smile that defied the brightest star’s brilliance aimed solely at him. Problem was, that smile, that beauty, meant for his eyes only, was displayed on websites all over the world, and the most lewd and provocative headlines accompanied them. There they were at Cuppers, laughing, talking, holding hands, every picture accompanied by a caption that made Orlando sicker by the minute.

But it wasn’t just that. Somehow, they had been followed even to Granite Creek, and their kiss, their impassioned talk there was also portrayed for the world to see. Never in his life, in his entire career with countless of ups and downs with the press, had Orlando felt so invaded and violated as he did in that minute. They had even followed them to Zowie’s house, and it was only a miracle there wasn’t a picture of her building for people to flock around. He supposed there was some law against it. Too bad said law didn’t extend to their most obvious moments of privacy, he mused.

And the comments… the articles! Orlando supported himself against the couch and swallowed hard to fight the nausea that invaded him. They went was past disgusting, they were plainly obscene. Speculations, half-truths and plain lies, that was what they were made of. What little the photographer might have seen, or the big part he had seen, actually, was blown out of proportion and made them come across as two horny exhibitionists willing to have sex in public, right next to a school. And not just that; they had linked the girl in the pictures to that girl in Morocco three years ago, the one who had, according to them, got in between Orlando and Beth and, with great delight, they offered countless details about Zowie, too little of them true. Some of the pictures from back then came up too.

Hanging his head low, Orlando let his phone fall on the couch before he covered his face with trembling hands. He was disgusted, felt betrayed, invaded and was sure to retaliate, but… how would all of this affect Zowie?

Hell, how was he going to break it to her in the first place?

A groan, defeated and laden with worry, escaped Orlando’s lips. He wanted to protect Zowie, would do it at all cost but, could he do it when the harm came, if not from himself, from what his job itself entailed? She didn’t deserve it. Once, three years ago, it had hurt her so deeply, she had ran away from it all, included him. No one would be interested in Zowie, her life and her past, had it not been for her connection to him. But since she was involved with Orlando, there would always be an interest in her life. And sadly, not all of it would be good. Most of it would be cruel and would surely rip her to shreds if she allowed it to. Was Zowie strong enough to handle it? And above all, was Orlando strong enough to protect her from it all when it got to be too much? Never in his life had he doubted his own capabilities so much as he did in that precise instant, standing in Zowie’s living room and feeling the magic bubble they had built yesterday bursting cruelly around him. Why, Orlando asked himself. Why every time they felt they could make it, something bad had to happen?

Orlando was deeply lost in his musings, misery and determination battling for every inch of his heart, each wanting to take over and unwilling to back down. So lost he was, he failed to hear the light steps coming his way until a pair of soft, warm arms found a way around his waist from behind, jerking him back to reality.

“Mmm… good morning.”

With a smile glued to her lips, Zowie closed her eyes and burrowed her nose in the line of Orlando’s spine, inhaling his scent and feeling how sweet memories flooded her mind. She hadn’t seen much perfection in her life and had come to realise, over the years, that it only hurt her to hope to achieve such thing when she was merely a human, but the last few hours with Orlando? They were as close to perfection as Zowie had ever known, and the only perfection she vowed herself she would ever seek in her life. His touch, his voice, his smell, were etched in her memory, and Zowie never, ever, wanted to live without them again.

She snuggled closer against him, if such thing was possible, her hands splaying on his tummy and her breasts pressing against his back. Her lips posed a kiss on his shoulder as she knelt on the cushions of her couch, and a smile played on Zowie’s mouth when the tips of her fingers felt the firm muscles of his abs through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She had loved Orlando back when he was a thin, lanky boy of twenty-two, but she would be lying if she said she was disgusted by this broader, more sculpted body of a thirty year old. Everything was firm and strong in him, and she was glad he couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks as Zowie remembered some of the things they had done in the dark of the night.

His hands covered hers and Zowie felt Orlando take a deep breath. It took him a long second to turn around and acknowledge her, but when he did, there was a smile on his lips and a glow in his eyes. The blush she had fought against so hard returned to her cheeks, but Zowie refused to duck her head and instead, she faced Orlando squarely. So did he, and although his expression was, for some reason, unreadable, the kiss that he planted on her lips spoke volumes. There was love and intensity there, a fierceness underlying it all and making Zowie feel, if only the briefest second, a hint of desperation coming from him. But, why would he feel any desperate? They had just lived an amazing moment. They had the rest of their lives ahead of them, and if they played it well, it could be good, better than anything they had ever imagined before. For once in their relationship she felt hopeful. Right now, she felt she could face an army should need arise.

If Orlando had known, had had if only the tiniest hint of the path Zowie’s thoughts had taken, he would have felt more confident, more certain; if anything, a little more at ease with himself and his doubts. They wouldn’t have magically vanished in their entirety, but knowing how strong Zowie felt – and how strongly she felt for _him_ – would have put things in a different perspective. But he didn’t, and as a consequence, in his desperate need to keep her safe, Orlando felt he couldn’t bring the subject up. He would have to hide this… _issue_ for a little longer, hoping to find a way out of it before it even brushed her, or until he found out how to handle everything. Damn press, he mused inwardly. The hype about him had long since died down. He had been able to walk down the street, if not as a completely anonymous person, at least without a horde of paparazzi following him like in the years immediately after _Rings_. Whoever had sold them off deserved every single dark thought that ran through his mind and more. Now he would have to contact Fiona, who would tell him off for not telling her exactly what he was doing in America, for not warning her about the possibilities of paparazzi, then come up with a way to control the possible damage that would come out of it all…

A soft, lingering kiss Zowie placed on his lips successfully wiped every single thought in Orlando’s mind. His hands, reacting on their own, found her waist and felt her warmth through whatever she was wearing when they closed themselves around her curves.

“What smells so good?”

Her voice, soft and questioning, made Orlando open his eyes. Laying his own gaze on her, he felt his heart skipping a beat. How couldn’t he want to do whatever he could to protect her? She held his heart in her hands and, for some reason he couldn’t nor wouldn’t understand, made him want to be better. Better at everything, but basically, a better man. So Zowie could be proud of him. How couldn’t he protect her at the best of his possibilities?

“A breakfast for champions.” He said, and the way Zowie’s eyes gleamed told him his answer had had the desired effect. Obviously, she too remembered her own words from that morning in his house by the lake in Ouarzazate. “And it’s ready and waiting for you, so…”

He nodded towards the kitchen island and when she gasped, his lips stretched in a smile, momentarily forgetting his turmoil and his doubts. He was reluctant to let Zowie go, to part from her softness and warmth, but she gave him absolutely no chance. Scrambling to her feet from her kneeling position, she advanced the few feet that separated her from the kitchen with slow steps, her eyes wide as she stared at the food laid there. She seemed to take it all in for a few silent seconds, before she turned around in her nightie – a sight that, despite all his worries, made his thoughts stray – and looked at him with wide blue eyes.

“That’s not just for me, right?”

Orlando grinned and shook his head.

“You honestly think I would have breakfast without you?”

Smiling, Zowie went back to him but, this time, she avoided the couch and hugged him tight to her body, giving him a deep, thankful kiss that soon turned into something much deeper.

“You sure I can’t convince you to… well, have a _later_ breakfast?”

Her words, her smile, the look in her eyes and the way her body pressed suggestively against him would have tempted the holiest of men; which Orlando definitely wasn’t. He was about to agree to her offer when his stomach rumbled, loudly and obnoxiously, making her laugh.

“Some other time, then.” Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Zowie took hold of Orlando’s hand and led him to the kitchen island, where they sat down and enjoyed the breakfast of tea, pancakes – she had taught him her recipe some time ago, telling him how much she had grown into them since moving to the US – and a variety of dairy products Orlando had prepared for her.

Zowie enjoyed every single bite she took, for she knew Orlando had prepared it all with her in mind, and rejoiced on every second they spent together, kissing, feeding each other, talking or simply in a companionable silence. Problem was, the silence slowly began to morph into something that resembled more the quiet introspection of a troubled man, instead of the kind of quietness shared between two lovers. And the more Orlando spent silent, the more Zowie began to notice the lines of worry and concern that marred his, until then, relaxed features, and she didn’t like it. She had barely paid attention to his posture when she sneaked up on him some time ago, but as she went back in time in her mind, she remembered him standing with his face in his hands.

Realisation made her own body tense, mirroring the line of strain she could see in his shoulders. What had made Orlando act that way? He hadn’t left her house yet; it was obvious since he wore the jeans he had worn the previous day. If he hadn’t, then nothing in the world outside her apartment could have worried and weighed him down so much. If that was the case, what could make Orlando act like that? He occasionally gave her a smile, as if to dispel some of the tension he surely knew he was giving off, but Zowie didn’t like – she hated, in fact – the path her musings were taking. If the outside world couldn’t be counted in as a source for his concern, then it had to be something from the inside, and the only inside thing she could think of that could have him like that, was the night they had shared.

Zowie had to take a big gulp of her tea to push down the bite of pancake she simply couldn’t swallow. The food, until then delicious, tasted like rubber in her mouth and felt like a rock in her stomach. Finishing her tea, she pushed her plate aside just barely, hoping not to attract too much attention from Orlando. A quick look in his direction, however, told her how wrong she was. He seemed even deeper in his musings than before, and his eyes had taken on a darker shade than usual. Please God, no, she mused inwardly, feeling the knot in her throat tightening even further. Please don’t make him regret what happened last night. Please don’t let him have second thoughts about this. Please don’t make him leave because he realised this is not what he wanted. I’ll be able to carry on living because this is what I have been learning to do for the past three years, but I don’t want that kind of life.

The longer she spent silent, the longer Orlando imitated her, but soon, Zowie couldn’t hold herself back any longer. The old her would have come up with a light comment to dispel the odd atmosphere and would have taken a wide detour around the matter at hand, but the new her couldn’t. She knew what happened when she avoided trouble, and she would be damned if she made that same mistake regarding the man before her ever again.

“Is something wrong?”

Startled by the sound of her voice after such a lengthy silence, Orlando visibly jumped in his seat, and the gesture made Zowie’s heart lurch. Was that how deep in his musings he was? Was it that serious?

“What? No, no… I was just… thinking, that’s all.” He tried to make light of the situation by giving her a smile and a pat in her thigh, but Zowie couldn’t miss the clamminess in his palm when he did.

“That’s obviously what you were doing.” She said, her face serious. “I just don’t think that’s all. What’s going on, Orlando?”

He gave her a questioning look, although a closer look told Zowie the glow in his eyes wasn’t doubt.

It was desperation.

“Orlando, please.” She begged, her hand going to his arm. “I can see something is bothering you. I _know_ something is bothering you.” Taking a deep breath, she then added in a voice that came out much lower and more insecure than she would have intended. “Is it… is it about last night?”

There was obvious puzzlement in Orlando’s face for a second as her words sank in, and Zowie could tell the precise moment they did, for his mouth went slack and his eyes widened as the rest of his features accompanied them to express his shock.

“Last night?” Orlando seemed to struggle to find the right words. When he failed to, he repeated. “Last night?”

Zowie fidgeted in her seat, slipping her suddenly cold hands between her knees to warm them. She lowered her eyes for a second before looking up at him again.

“I saw you when I came into the living room. And now… you’re just keeping quiet and you look so worried, almost regretful, like-“

“Zowie, look at me.”

The commanding tone in his voice, the firmness in it, didn’t allow disobediences. It gave her hope, but Zowie knew the price to pay for hopes without strong foundations.

“Orlando…” She tried to say, but he interrupted her, taking her face between his hands.

“Zowie, I will never regret last night. _Ever_. All I have wanted for these past three years was to be with you in any possible way. Do you honestly think I would think any less of what happened between us after missing you for so long? I’d be stupid!” A strong, long sigh escaped his lips, and his hands fell on his thighs as an expression of defeat coloured his face.

Doubt boiled inside Orlando while he loathed himself for making Zowie feel insecure. Where was the man who thought would do anything to protect her? Not fifteen minutes after making himself that promise, here she was, all wide-eyed and insecure as she stared up at him, sitting on a tall stool with her hands between her knees as if she tried to warm herself against the chill he emitted. His same intention was causing her turmoil, and he hated himself for that.

“You know you can trust in me.” She said, her voice soft and small. “I trusted in you. I told you everything. You can do the same with me. I can handle it.”

And although she didn’t seem to at the moment, sitting there in nothing but her nightie, her long hair messed with sleep and barefoot, Orlando knew there was more strength in her heart that there probably had ever been in his own. He couldn’t underestimate her. He had made that mistake once in the past, and risked losing a great deal if he did it again.

No one said speaking his fear would be any easy, though.

But he did, nonetheless. And he showed her the pictures and the articles that accompanied them in her computer. And he sat next to her all the time, from the moment she paled instantly at the sight of the first picture until the look of determination gave her square jaw a sharper edge. He shared with her his only option so far, which was contacting Fiona for guidance and damage control, especially to protect her.

“I’m used to them.” He said. “It’s you I’m worried about. The things they say about you…”

“Some of them are true. But most of them are lies.” Zowie pointed out, turning to face him in the couch. “But whatever they say, I won’t let them dictate my life, Orlando. I did once, and look at what it did to us! I won’t hide. I did nothing wrong, and if they think being with the guy I love, kissing him for God’s sake, is bad, then it’s _them_ who have a problem, not me.” Taking a deep breath, she added, her blue eye sparkling. “Things were very different in Morocco. There were many things you didn’t know back then, but that’s not the case anymore. If you’re willing to go for it, to carry on with this, with _us_ , no matter what they say, then I’m up for it. I know who I am, Orlando. Took me fucking ages to find it out, and I won’t let their ill-meaning comments ruin everything for us. Not again.”

Her words shook him to the very core, their meaning filtering in his heart, her strength giving him strength.

“I won’t hide. I’ll understand if you, given time, feel you can’t put up with it, but I won’t hide what we have. I won’t hide what I feel for you, Zowie. If you think you can do it, then so do I.”

The look she gave him was enough answer. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they would face it together. No secrets, no lies. They both had learned their lesson.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18.**

_“Every time I thought I'd got it made_   
_It seemed the taste was not so sweet”_

**David Bowie – Changes**

 

They had the best intentions. They came up with countless plans and their hearts held the best of wishes, but nevertheless, and regardless of determination and well-meant thoughts, the next week turned out to be a living nightmare; hell that surrounded them like the thickest fog, trapping them in and refusing to let them go.

Still, Zowie and Orlando fought. With every bit of their strength.

If Zowie had been gullible enough to think three years ago that she had been harassed by the press’ interest in her, she now realised how utterly naïve she had been. So silly of her to think _that_ was bad! Even then, with her exactly in the eye of the storm, Zowie had been sheltered and protected from the worse of it. Yes, she had appeared in the front cover of tabloids. Yes, blurry pictures of her had been published in websites all over the world and yes, there had been paparazzi camped outside her hotel. Never, however, had pictures of her in a moment so private and intimate been showed for the world to see and never, ever, had paparazzi camped right at her door, giving her not only a glimpse, but a full view of what press intrusion truly meant.

There was no barrier, no separation, between her and the worse the paparazzi had to offer other than Orlando, and there wasn’t much he could do, no matter how hard he tried. Here in Prescott he was her only buffer, and every time he escorted her to work in the morning, picked her up in the afternoon, and presented a barrier whenever she stepped out, Zowie loved him more and more. However, at the same time, she couldn’t help the frustration and anger that blossomed bright and alive inside her every time a flash went off right in front of her eyes.

They still did what they could to carry on with their lives as normally as possible, though, given the circumstances. Three years ago Zowie had cowered and hidden away, but she wasn’t the same person anymore. In a sign of rebellion, and despite all of Orlando’s fervent pleas, she still went to work every single morning. Her only concession was to allow him to drive her there in the car he had rented instead of walking like she used to. She hated that her life had to be altered that way, but since the two of them had vowed not to break under the pressure, all they could do was find a way to carry on with their lives around the constant siege.

Only one good time came out of all the problems. Since he didn’t plan on leaving her alone for any reason whatsoever, no matter how much Zowie argued she could handle things on her own, Orlando had moved in with her. And about that, she couldn’t complain, for every night she spent in his arms more than made up for the inconveniences of the day.

But it was getting harder and harder. Everyone at work was very supportive of her and Orlando, whom they had got to know since the whole incident had started, but whenever she saw the paparazzi standing a few meters away from the centre’s doors, Zowie felt uncomfortable. This went beyond her own interests. There were people working here. There were patients that needed peace and quiet; patients mostly in their teens and early twenties that didn’t need to be exposed in such a careless way. If that happened, it would only backlash on the centre. The details as to how Zowie had ended up in Prescott had surfaced, of course, and although she wasn’t ashamed, she feared for the moment the safety of the centre would be breached. She knew one thing or the other would happen eventually, and she wouldn’t be able to stand it when it finally did. What these people had done for her was much too big and important to be treated this way, and they didn’t deserve the extra tension the people camped outside put on them.

She had talked to Elijah a few days ago, and bits of that conversation still echoed in her mind as she fumbled with some papers in her office, trying unsuccessfully to get some work done.  Thank God for understanding superiors, she mused.

_“I’m in LA. I could drive over there if you guys want me to… help you distract the photographers or whatever. Or you could come here and escape from it all.”_

_“Do you honestly think we could escape so easily? That flying or driving to Los Angeles would catch them by surprise? I can hardly go out and shop for groceries without them crowding in around me, I don’t think packing and leaving would be something unexpected to them. If anything, I’m positive they’re expecting something like that.”_

_“At least here you won’t have to worry about them sneaking into the centre or bothering your neighbours anymore. Or even worse, have said neighbours selling them tidbits of information. My place is no fortress, but hey… I have never had any problems here. We could come up with a plan to distract them, throw them off your scent. If you guys decide you want to do it, then I’m up for it. Anything for you.”_

Zowie hadn’t wanted to consider that offer back then, and her reasons hadn’t been simple excuses; she was a hundred per cent certain that there was no way she and Orlando could sneak out of her apartment armed with suitcases without the paparazzi camped at her door noticing. Like she had told Elijah, just trying to go out to do something as simple as buying food was nearly impossible. Last time they had ordered pizza, the poor kid had been nearly mobbed. What made Lij think they could step out unnoticed and unbothered?

Zowie sighed, her eyes unfocused on the view outside her window. She didn’t like this. In fact, she _hated_ it with her guts. A part of her didn’t want to leave Prescott because she felt safe there, had always felt that way, but also because she had grown to love the city. No one said it had to be permanent, but no one said it had to be this way either. And going back to Los Angeles… apprehension coiled inside her. If there was one place in the entire world that held bad memories for her, that was it. Not even Wellington, with all the things that had happened to her there, would ever match the darkness that accompanied that city every time she thought of it. It was silly and she knew it; LA had absolutely nothing to do with her stupidity and the mistakes she had made, but still. The one thing that constituted a silver lining for her time in California was Orlando entering her life once again.

And yet, despite her reluctance to accept Elijah’s offer, a part of her knew she couldn’t stay in Prescott forever. Orlando often said he loved the place and her feelings for it weren’t up for discussion but, could he honestly make his career work from there? It wasn’t the same as trying to make it work from New Zealand; Los Angeles was only an hour and a half away by plane, but still, Zowie felt that, in keeping him in Prescott, she was harming his career. He would probably shake his head at her reasoning if she shared it with him, but Zowie couldn’t help feeling that way.

But it wasn’t solely Orlando what made her wonder whether staying was the right thing to do. Her mum, whom either phoned or chatted online with her every day since Zowie’s relationship with Orlando had been exposed, kept telling her, over and over again, that New Zealand was the right place for her. That there would be no other place in the whole world where she could be protected and shielded by all her loved ones such as Wellington. Orlando was more than welcome as well, Noemie had said, showing her daughter how much she now understood and approved of her feelings for him. And how much she understood, without him saying so, that he wasn’t going to leave Zowie alone until the storm cleared out completely.

Was it time for her to take the next step? Should Zowie leave the safety of Prescott and face the rest of her life? Arizona was amazing and it felt like home, for it was the place where she had chosen to live that part of her life, but her heart… her heart begged for something entirely different. It begged for the wind on her face, blowing from the sea and bringing the familiar rain with it. It begged for the lush green and the bright blue. It begged for the colourful boat houses the waves lapped at on a sunny, peaceful day. It begged to come full circle.

It begged for Wellington.

Would it be such a bad idea? Noemie had a point: there were people there that would have her back but, was that what Zowie wanted? To be a nuisance to everyone? To bring the madness over with her? To drag innocent, unsuspecting people into it? And drag Orlando with her to the other end of the world, keeping him away from his career exactly the way she _didn’t_ want to? Too many unanswered questions collided one with the other in her head, and whenever Zowie felt that way, she knew she needed to let it all out. If there was something she had learnt since coming to Prescott, was that letting things simmer until they drove her mad never did her any favours, so leaving the papers she had been messing up with in an untidy pile on her desk, Zowie left her office, her quick steps taking her straight to Rebecca’s.

She had to wait for a short bit, since Rebecca was busy with a patient, but Zowie busied herself with some of the brochures lying around and that she was already more than familiar with, having read them all three years ago. Nevertheless, they showed her what a long way she had come from the first time she had sat there, and also from the last, when Orlando had reappeared in her life. When Rebecca finally let her young patient go, a girl who had been at the centre for a short few weeks, and saw Zowie sitting by her door, she gave her a knowing look. The younger woman imagined the therapist was hardly surprised to see her there, but obviously she had to be aware of what was going on, since pretty much everyone at _A Sober Way Home_ did.

“Do you have a few minutes?” Zowie’s question was simple. What did she need any further explanations for, anyway?

Rebecca didn’t answer. She simply smiled and nodded in the direction of her office. Once they were both sitting down, she stared at Zowie over her glasses and spoke.

“I think I have an inkling why you’re here. But that’s it: an _inkling._ I’m sure there’s a lot more going on that I have no idea of.”

Zowie made a face, her eyebrows raised and her lips set on a tight line.

“I bet you don’t even know half of it.” She said. And once she opened the gates, she didn’t stop until she was done.

“So the question here,” said Rebecca when Zowie finally fell silent, “is whether you two should leave Prescott or stay here.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Straightening up in her seat, Zowie stared back at her old therapist, trusting her completely to help her find a solution to this.

“Do you want to stay?”

Zowie stared at her, knowing for a fact that she would make her spell every single word out, but needing to at the same time.

“In a way, yes. I’ve always felt so safe here, so peaceful… I have a job that I love, a place that I can call my own, friends…”

“But?”

Zowie shook her head, sketching the faintest smile. Trust it to your therapist to find the _but_ that you were refusing to pronounce…

“But… I miss Wellington. I miss my family. I know going back there won’t mean running away from my problems; if anything, it will mean facing even more, since my sister still doesn’t talk to me and my father is there somewhere, but also… all this has got me thinking. I can stay here, I can keep Orlando here if that’s what he wants but, what will be of me? I mean, Prescott is great and like I said, I do love my job, but I’m twenty-four, I need opportunities. I need to do something with my life and I never will if I hide here.”

Rebecca stared at her with that look Zowie knew so much, the one that said she was pleased at the progress she was making, but that she still wouldn’t give her the solution to her problems: she would have to find them out all on her own. She could guide her and give her a few pointers as to what could be best for her, but the ultimate decision was hers and hers alone.

“Have you ever heard the expression _crossing the threshold_ , Zowie? It must have been used at one point or another in your recovery process.” Rebecca asked, crossing her legs and making herself more comfortable in her chair as she looked at her former patient straight in the eye.

“I have, yes. If memory serves, it has something to do with making decisions, starting anew.” There was a slight frown in Zowie’s face, for although she did remember the expression, it was too vague a memory for her to recall it entirely.

“Well, crossing the threshold is exactly what you have to do now. You said it yourself: you need to do something with your life instead of hiding here for the rest of it, no matter how peaceful and beautiful Prescott might be. You have seen the world, Zowie… this town might be a safe haven for you, but there’s no way it will satisfy you for much longer.” Leaning forward a little, Rebecca pinned Zowie with a stern look. “Your threshold, the step you must take, is starting a new life. Whether it is in Wellington, New York or wherever, I think this restlessness you’re feeling is your heart telling you your time here is over. That doesn’t mean you have to love Prescott or your job any less… you just need to move on. Go on with your life. You have found a new path, it’s now laid out for you. I think it would have happened sooner or later, but Orlando’s presence here and this whole… _mess_ around you have speed things up a bit. Which is why you might feel uncertain about it, but I’m glad it finally happened. I really am.

There’s a lot you can offer to the world, Zowie. Your experiences, the ups and downs, you can share it and hopefully help others make the right decisions. But you must start small. Go visit your family. Don’t push yourself into making things up with your sister and your father, just let it flow. It will happen in due time… you know better than anyone that pushing people into doing things never works well. Do whatever feels right to you, to your heart, and your loved ones will understand. And, if in some months time, some years time, you feel there’s something you really want to do, then go for it. You were given the means to start a new life on your own the moment you were discharged from the centre. Now you only need to step out and do it.”

It was so simple to say and, at the same time, such a seemingly hard thing to do! Although the idea had been going on and on in Zowie’s mind, hearing it in words from a person who had always been a voice of reason since arriving in the centre gave them a new reality, a new finality. She did want to leave the constant siege of the press behind, wanted things to be peaceful once again for her and Orlando, but starting anew was a bit unsettling. It was funny that, some years ago, she had jumped into the first plane she could find and flown halfway around the world without a second thought, and now that she was older and definitely a little wiser, she gave this so much thought. Perhaps that was the exact reason why: back then she had just jumped into action and now, as a part of growing up, Zowie also weighed the pros and cons of such decision. Whatever it was, she would talk about this with Orlando, for it included him as much as it included her.

~*~

The decision, however, was made for her.

Zowie and Orlando had talked about it that night over dinner, had discussed her feelings about leaving and how it could be done. Nothing, however, had been decided or set on stone. Orlando had told her that no matter which path she took, he would be there for her, which had cemented Zowie’s determination, and they had gone to bed thinking, hoping, expecting they would have a few more days to make a decision and work on achieving their goal.

That benefit, however, was not going to be given to them.

Someone had sneaked into the centre, and that was obvious the morning after when, after a call from Orlando’s agent Fiona, he and Zowie visited a very popular tabloid’s website. Usually, they avoided them like the plague, never even thinking of visiting one. That morning, however, there was no option, and what they saw there made Zowie pale as anger and defeat grew inside her at a matching rate.

She knew someone had sneaked into the centre because there was no other way that picture of her leaving Rebecca’s office the day before could have been there otherwise. And although the article was another blatant display of the awfully oriented creativity of the so-called journalists of said tabloid – in which they talked about how bad Zowie was taking the interest of the press and how desperately she had ran to her former therapist looking for counsel – the picture in itself was worse than Zowie had ever expected. Why? Because the only way said picture could have ended there, was that either someone had sneaked into the centre, or someone from the inside had taken the picture and sold it to the press and either option felt like a rock crushing Zowie’s heart. The safety of the centre and its patients had been violated, and all because of her. And when such thing happened, there wasn’t much she could do, regardless of the support the centre’s authorities had offered her before, other than put her foot in the path Rebecca had showed her… and start walking.

It was exactly what Zowie and Orlando had discussed the night before; she just wished it could have been done in their terms, at their own time, and not pushed by the stupidity of whoever had taken that silly picture and built a story from nothing.

“We could sue them, you know?” Orlando said all of a sudden, dragging Zowie out of her troubled haze. “I could talk to a lawyer right now and…”

“No.”

Orlando carried on, not having listened to her.

“… we could make them stop mentioning you or showing your picture. I mean, there has to be _something_ we can do…”

“No, Orlando.”

When he turned to look at her, a stunned expression in his face, Zowie tore her gaze from the screen of her laptop and looked at him, her face a picture of seriousness.

“What’s the use in that? Let’s face it… the damage is done already. I can deal with it. It’s a pain, I can’t deny it, but I don’t give a damn what they say about me. I know how I feel about this and how I’m dealing with it. What I can’t accept, however, is them doing _that_.” She said in an emphatic tone pointing the screen and the picture with an accusatory finger. “Those kids can’t be put in danger, Orlando! Can you imagine the kind of trouble the centre will go through if parents decide their children have been put in such situation? Those people mean the world to me. They took me in when I had no idea what to do with my life, I can’t repay them like this!”

“Which is exactly why we should sue them!” Orlando countered, trying to make her see his point.

“And put the centre in the limelight yet again? No. I don’t want this anymore and I don’t want my time in Prescott to end with a bitter note.” Sighing, she gave him a look that spoke volumes of the feelings in her heart. “I think it’s time we accepted Lij’s invitation. I think it’ll be better for both.”

Turning to her, Orlando took her hands in his and stared at her earnestly.

“You don’t have to do a single thing for me, you know? If you want to stay in Prescott, we will. I’m not leaving you alone in this.”

“How long will you be able to stay here without it damaging your career, Orlando? Hasn’t Fiona been begging you to fly to LA for a meeting with that director?” Zowie said, referring to a possible new contract for him. “I won’t do anything to harm your career, but above all, I’m positive this is the right thing to do. At least I do now.” She added with a raise of her eyebrows.

Orlando, however, was adamant.

“I won’t have you doing this just for me.” His voice was stern and it reached her heart, but Zowie’s mind was made up.

“I’m not doing this just for you. I’m also doing it for me.” Her blue eyes were serious when they stared into his brown ones. “Prescott is a lovely place and I will always have great memories of my time here, but Rebecca was right – I’m hiding here. I have to face what’s outside. If I carry on hiding from the press, all I will achieve is making their interest worse. Not that I’ll pose for them when I leave the house, of course.” She hurried to add, just in case. Then, taking a deep breath, she carried on. “But now I see this part of my life is over. My rehab is over, Orlando, and I’ve been prolonging it until now. I’m a recovering addict and I will always be, for this is an everyday struggle, but I can’t keep on hanging to that part of my treatment. I have to go outside and see the world again. Face it. Show it I’m finally ready for it. And if for that I have to leave Prescott and return to Los Angeles, then I will.”

Orlando stared at his girlfriend, once again marvelled by the woman sitting beside him, so similar and yet, so, so different to the girl she used to be. While she now talked about facing her life, about not hiding anymore, there had been a time when she had hidden from this same kind of interest. She had come a long, long way, and although Orlando wanted to preserve her at all cost, a part of him understood he couldn’t hide Zowie in a box he could safely carry with him everywhere he went. She needed to live her own life and prove herself how strong she had become. If, in order to do that, they had to leave the relative safety of Prescott and fly to the world’s capital of paparazzi, then he would have to find a way to deal with it. He was indeed expected in Los Angeles soon for a job meeting, but he dreaded the idea of leaving her alone here. Now, if Zowie was in California with him and Elijah was near, then the prospect didn’t seem so hellish. Besides, her birthday wasn’t too far away, and there was no way Orland was going to allow her to spend it surrounded by this kind of madness.

“If that’s what you want.” He said, finally.

“It’s what I want.” Zowie said. “But also what I need. It’s the first step, Orlando.”

He took her in his arms. It was the first step, Zowie was right. And he would make sure he was by her side every step of this new way she was taking.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 19.**

_“Gonna find my way to heaven,_

_cause I did my time in hell”_

**Rolling Stones – Before They Make Me Run**

“Are you really, a hundred per cent sure this is what you want to do?”

When Orlando stared at her, Zowie returned his look with steady blue eyes, a part of her relieved and certain, the other – a much smaller one – still nagging at her with doubts. Was this what she really wanted? It had certainly seemed like the right thing to do when everything was still a somewhat distant possibility and nothing had actually happened, but now that the intrusion in the centre had speed things up greatly, Zowie felt it was the only way to go. The feeling had definitely been there a few days ago, but as the reality of their plans stared at her square in the face, the uncertainty in her heart bloomed like a flower under the bright spring sun.

Nevertheless, was Zowie willing to stay in Prescott and face even more intrusions? The centre’s safety had already been breached; how long would it take until some really reckless paparazzi sneaked into private property and, let’s say, her apartment? Would she be able to put up with such thing? The flower of uncertainty withered under the weight of that truth. There was no way she could. The whole thing felt a lot like running away to her, and running away had never done her any good in the past, and it took Zowie a moment to remind herself that this wasn’t the same as before. _This_ wasn’t escaping – this was leaving a place to start her life anew, and when thinking of Orlando’s earlier question, she knew the answer before it even came to her mind.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Once again, Orlando stared at her, a bag at his feet. His eyes, darker than usual with the worry that clouded them, studied her face as if they could read something in there that she wasn’t saying. Whatever it was, however, he must have never found it, for he sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair before posing them on her waist.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here all on your own. Hell, I don’t _want_ to leave you alone.” Sighing again, he ducked his head a little to be at eye level with her. “We could always do it the other way around, you know?”

Zowie shook her head. They had packed their bags and Orlando had managed to sneak them into the trunk of a newly rented car unnoticed in the late hours of the night. It had been two days since the picture of Zowie had come out and things were worse than ever, pushing their decision forward more than they would have liked.

“No.” Zowie said, inching herself closer to him. “I think it’ll work better this way.”

The plan was easy, and they had been hopeful when coming up with it. Orlando would drive to Phoenix where he would catch a flight to Los Angeles and Zowie would return to the centre as if nothing had happened. Later that day, however, she would sneak out in a van transporting patients to a hiking excursion, and then she would be on her way to Prescott Municipal Airport and later on Los Angeles, where Orlando would be expecting her at Elijah’s. In the end, she mused, Lij’s proposed visit had resulted the other way around.

The moment Zowie said those words, Orlando gave her a close inspection, wanting to be a hundred per cent sure they were doing this for the right reasons. Although they had talked about leaving, they hadn’t really taken the possibility into consideration; they just had never imagined it would come so soon. He hated what the press was doing to her, and even though Orlando had to admit Zowie was doing much better than he had anticipated, he still wished she didn’t have to be exposed to any of this. He didn’t think Los Angeles was the answer, for it was a beehive of paparazzi, but he begrudgingly admitted it was bigger and it was easier to lose oneself in there and go unnoticed. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that they were doing the right thing, Orlando still didn’t want to leave. Zowie must have read some of that hesitation in his eyes, for she looked up at him with determination in her own.

“You better leave now. I’ll leave for work… I mean the centre in a while.” She corrected herself, for she didn’t work there anymore; she had handed in her resignation the moment this mess had started. Giving him a softer, gentler look, she managed to sketch the tiniest of smiles. “We will be together again before the day ends. I’ll miss you.”

Orlando mirrored her gesture and ducked his head to pose a soft kiss on her lips.

“I’ll miss you too. A lot. I just wished we could leave together.” He said, feeling more than a little anxious at their separation, given their past record.

“You know we can’t. Otherwise we’d only be taking this whole circus over there with us.”

Although that was the undeniable truth, it didn’t mean Orlando had to accept it as it came. Stubbornly, he held on to his point of view for a few seconds, until reason made him see how irrational he was being. Defeat wasn’t easy to concede, but in the end, Orlando sighed heavily.

“I suppose this is a good a time as any to leave. I checked it out a while ago and there weren’t that many outside. I can drag them away with me and lose them somewhere in Phoenix should they be particularly persistent.” He didn’t move an inch, however, belying the intention in his words. Zowie grinned, amused, and Orlando rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Okay, okay. I’m going to start believing you want me out of the house.”

Zowie’s lips sketched a reluctant smile.

“I think that’s the only way _I_ will ever leave the house as it is.”

Orlando gave her another kiss, this time deeper and more intense, knowing it would have to last them until they met in Los Angeles later that day. Zowie’s fingers were still entangled with his long hair when he pulled apart and when she, begrudgingly, let him go.

“I better get going. Please promise me you’ll be careful and you’ll pay attention to what’s going on around you.” Orlando begged, taking her face in his hands and looking at her straight in the eye. “Call me the minute you reach the airport, okay?”

“I will.” Zowie promised. “Now go. Let’s get this show on the road.”

~*~

The morning was slow for Zowie. There was nothing for her to do in the centre other than say goodbye to the people she had worked with for so long and to the patients she had grown close to, and none of those things felt particularly happy or joyful. She felt in her heart this was the right thing to do, but couldn’t help the light traces of anxiety that coiled inside her. She had to be hopeful, though, she had reminded herself countless times throughout the day. She had to hope that this was for the better and that things would turn out well for them.

She had a final conversation with Rebecca, who once again encouraged her and reminded her that hiding in Prescott wasn’t an option for her anymore. When Zowie herself said she wanted more from life, she had opened the path for this. Thing was, she hated having been pushed into making this decision.

When the time came for her to leave, with no bags other than a handbag to carry the basics since Orlando had taken them all with him so she wouldn’t attract any attention, Zowie couldn’t help giving the centre a long, thorough look, her heart pounding with a mix of sadness and anticipation for what was to come. This place had been her home for three years, had led her in the path of good. The people in there, those who had gathered to say goodbye to her, had held her hand when she had felt helpless, had guided her, taught her things that would make the rest of her life much more bearable than it had been in the past.

But as she stared at them with the sting of tears in her eyes, she realised there would be no such thing as _the rest of her life_ if she stayed in Prescott. She needed to leave, and even though her decision had been pushed, perhaps she could, in one twisted way, thank the paparazzi for making her see that, like she could do the same thing for making her see she was no good for Orlando unless she was good for herself while she was in Morocco. A small, crooked grin touched her lips and Zowie shook her head almost imperceptibly. Who would have thought some good would come out of that stupid mess?

Climbing into the van with the patients, kids that had recently arrived to the centre and that hadn’t really got to know her much yet, Zowie tucked her long hair into a woollen black cap and covered the bottom half of her face with a discreet grey scarf, an outfit devised to help her go as unnoticed as possible and that made her thank God for the cold wind that blew that day. When the van left the centre, Zowie lowered her head and tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. There were some paps there, but the moment they saw a van full of kids they left them alone, knowing better than to mess with them. It took Zowie a few streets to finally raise her eyes and look around, but her relief at finding out no one was following them was great. She had never imagined their plan would work just as they had expected, but she imagined it would be better to save all celebrations for the time she finally set foot in Los Angeles.

~*~

Returning to Los Angeles brought to life the most varied of emotions inside Zowie. On one hand, she was, if not happy, at the very least relieved; satisfied that, seemingly, they had outsmarted the paparazzi that had circled them like hungry vultures for what seemed an eternity now. Eager that she would be seeing Orlando soon, for although she knew she had no true reason to fear, the separation brought a feeling of dread to her heart. Reminiscent, when she thought of how she had left from that very same airport little over three years ago to live yet another adventure with Orlando, as if destiny was bound on bringing them together over and over again. God did she thank her destiny right now!

But being there, having seen the yellow shades she so much associated with that city, had also stirred other feelings inside her that unsettled her, to say the least. This was the city where she had hit her lowest. She had come to Los Angeles so full of dreams and expectations, that she could now see she had never truly known how to successfully bring them to fruition. It was the place where her broken dreams and crushed expectations had led her by the hand down a path of self-destruction that had nearly been all too successful: a path that had taken her to Matt. She hadn’t heard anything about him since he had been imprisoned in Morocco, and she was happy that way. She couldn’t but wonder, however, if he was back. The thought of being in the same city as him, in his _turf_ nonetheless, tap danced up and down her spine spreading dread all over her. But she had made a point of living her life so far without spending every second of it fearing Matt could reappear. She knew him, knew he would plot revenge if he could, but dwelling on that would only lead her down a path of worries she couldn’t control and that would only end up hurting her badly, especially when it came to her emotions.

That was why, with her bag slung over her shoulder, Zowie took a deep, cleansing breath as she stepped out of the gate. This was a new life, she reminded herself. The start of her life. One she would make work no matter what.

The sight that welcomed her as she walked out made her steps falter a little, but steeling herself, Zowie carried on, slipping her sunglasses safely in place. She had ditched the woollen beanie before boarding the plane in Prescott, and now she flittingly regretted doing so as her heart longed for the added protection. Soon, however, she reminded herself that she was a big nobody, that despite the attention that had surrounded her as of late, she still was no celebrity and that, to top it all, was coming to Los Angeles in a domestic flight from a tiny little city in Arizona that most people probably had never heard of before. If not for Orlando, no journalist would ever be interested in her, so squaring her shoulders, Zowie looked up through her sunglasses, scanning the crowd coming and going before her.

The arrangement she and Orlando had come up with said that someone would be there to pick her up other than Elijah or Orlando himself, for that would have attracted the same attention they were hoping to deflect, so when she spotted a man with a sign that read _Ms. Wood_ , a grin played on her lips. It wasn’t that Hart was such an unusual surname that would drag lots of attention; it was just that Orlando had thought it better for her to use a fake name no one would relate to her. Bloom was out of the question, and she remembered blushing profusely the moment Orlando suggested it, eliciting a burst of laughter from him; a brief ray of light amidst the sombre darkness that surrounded them. Since Elijah had been thrown into the equation as well when he offered to take them in, the use of his name came naturally when they couldn’t come up with any other options.

She approached the driver and him, greeting her, offered to take her bag, which Zowie politely declined; it felt absolutely silly to have a grown man carrying a bright blue and decidedly feminine bag when she could perfectly do it herself. Perhaps at another time of her life she would have agreed just for the sake of it and for a laugh at how important it would have made her feel, but not anymore. Besides, she just wanted to get on the road and reach Lij’s house for once and for all and, hopefully, leave most of the mess behind.

~*~

Elijah’s house was lovely. Two-storeyed and white with large windows, it was located on top of a hill overlooking a beautiful area of the city Zowie hadn’t visited in her stay some years ago; probably because it was nice and affluent, and her life had been in the opposite side of the road, to be precise. A quick look around through the car’s tinted windows offered her a relieving fact: there seemed to be no photographers in sight. At that, Zowie allowed herself the sigh she had been repressing since before leaving Prescott; since this whole thing had started, she realised as the car trespassed the doors and entered Elijah’s property. And that was about right, for there waited for her two of the most important men in her life, eager expressions on their faces.

Zowie barely had any time to exit the car. Before the driver could even think of getting out and opening her door, Orlando had done it himself, and Zowie jumped out, launching herself in his arms with a spontaneity and effusiveness that put that of her seventeen-year-old self to absolute shame. Yes, she was probably overreacting, but God had she missed him! They had lived in such a state of tension in the past days, they had hardly relaxed, not even in the presence of each other. Now, however, finally certain, or as certain as they could hope to be, that no one was watching, Zowie and Orlando embraced and kissed as if they never wanted to let go. And they didn’t. It was only when they couldn’t breathe anymore that they separated just enough to look at each other.

“Hi.” She murmured, a wide, bright smile on her face.

The smile in Orlando’s lips was dazzling, and it made her weak at the knees.

“I missed you.” He murmured, stealing another quick kiss from her.

“Yes, yes… I know the whole thing. You missed her, she missed you, so that’s why you have to make out pretty much in my sidewalk while I’m standing here like a complete moron.”

Elijah’s amused voice tore through the haze Orlando always created around her and Zowie, beaming, stepped out of Orlando’s embrace the moment he opened his arms and much like she had done with her boyfriend, launched herself in the arms of her friend.

“It was about damn time you noticed me here!” He exclaimed, feigning anger, and belied by the way his arms slid tightly around her and made her whirl, eliciting wild giggles from her. Planting a loud kiss on her cheek, Elijah finally set her down on her feet and looked at her, big blue eyes twinkling and making Zowie smile widely. “You two were about to make me sick. And your boyfriend here.” He said, pointing at a smiling Orlando. “Has been driving me mad since he got here. Checking the time every two minutes, biting his nails, walking up and down the house and basically being a complete pain. _So_ glad you got here!” He finished with a roll of his expressive eyes.

Zowie laughed and, kissing his cheek, stepped back and looked at him up and down.

“England suits you.” She said.

“Must be the tan.”

Lij’s comment made them laugh and then Orlando, while still joyous she had finally met her friend once again, not wanting to spend another minute without her, took her hand and not-so-discreetly pulled her close to him. Elijah noticed, of course, and he once again rolled his eyes.

“Okay, you two. I know what’s been going on lately, but I can see I’ve been missing out on a lot more than a few paps deciding on a group trip to Prescott. So, shall we?”

With Orlando’s arm tight around her waist and Elijah standing by her side, Zowie entered her friend’s house with a smile on her face, feeling completely at ease for the first time in longer than she cared to admit.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 20.**

 

“So, guys, tell me… what are your plans now that you’re in LA?”

Elijah’s question as they all sat in his living room sipping on a fragrant coffee someone had recommended him, caught both Zowie and Orlando by surprise, and it became obvious the moment brown eyes met blue ones, confusion shining in both.

What did they plan to do? To be honest, Orlando had no idea. His most urgent need had been to take Zowie as far away from the paparazzi as possible; he hadn’t looked further beyond that, hadn’t _dared_ to do so because he didn’t want to go through the sadness of seeing his expectations crushed all over again. He had been a first-hand witness to the strain the whole situation had put on Zowie, and seeing her now relaxed, happy, glowing with joy as two of the most important people in her life surrounded her, lifted a weight that had been crushing his heart for a long, long time. Now that they had succeeded, at least so far, Orlando had to admit he hadn’t even given the near – or distant future, for that matter – a second thought.

As for Zowie, the situation wasn’t much different. This mess had rushed many things in her life, and all she wanted was some time to settle down and think of what she wanted to do next. Right now, there wasn’t a single thing in the world more urgent than enjoying every second of her time in that house with those two men who meant so much to her.

“Honestly? I never gave it a second thought.” Orlando said and, turning to Zowie, who sat right next to him her body close to his, he gave her a mildly embarrassed look. “I should have asked you about it, but…” His voice faded as his cheeks took on a slightly darker shade.

Smiling, Zowie shook her head.

“Actually, neither did I.” She said. Her gaze shifting to Elijah, she added. “I think I just want to relax for a couple of days. Things have been crazy lately and I just want to _breathe_ for a while. Then… I don’t know. I suppose we’ll come up with something.” Looking up at Orlando, Zowie grinned at him.

“Well, you do know you can spend as long as you want here, right?” Elijah’s question was welcomed with nods and smiles by the couple sitting in front of him. “Just make yourselves at home until you figure out what to do next.”

When Zowie locked eyes with her friend, she made sure all the appreciation she felt for him showed in her gaze.

“Thank you, Lij. Thank you so much. You can’t imagine how much this means to me… to us, in fact. You offered us a way out, and I don’t think I can ever repay you for what you’ve done for me. _Again_.” Swallowing the knot that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, Zowie blinked before looking at Elijah one more time. “You’re always there, and I just wish I could stop being a pain to you.”

Lij didn’t need Zowie to elaborate on that thought to know exactly what she referred to. She had said it so many times before, and, just as many times, he had told her that he didn’t mind helping her. That he was her friend. That, in times of need, what friends did was help each other. That she didn’t have to wish for a more “normal” friendship with him, as she had put it once; he didn’t mind offering her a hand every once in a while without expecting a single thing in return for she meant the world to him.

“No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for, Zow… like I said many times before.” Lij said with a pointed look, making Zowie lower her gaze a bit embarrassed for a second before her lips stretched on a grin.

“Thanks, anyway.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Orlando’s phone beeped in that instant, clearing the air some. He excused himself and, taking it out of his pocket, he quickly read the text before slipping the phone back where it belonged.

“Is something wrong?” Zowie asked when a slight frown darkened Orlando’s features. As if her voice had dragged him from a world far, far away, he shook his head slightly and turned to give her a smile.

“No. Nothing at all. No need to worry.”

Zowie stared at him, blinking stupidly for a while. A part of her wanted to press on the matter, while another, always more serious and rational, cautioned her that it might be a job-related message, and that there wasn’t much she could do to help in that case. In the end, they returned to the amiable chat about possible future plans when Elijah suddenly exclaimed.

“Hey! You guys won’t believe who I ran to the other day.”

Both Zowie and Orlando stared at him with puzzled expressions on their faces after exchanging a quick look; there weren’t many people the three of them knew and that could be important enough for them to elicit such reaction from Elijah. Grinning, blue eyes sparkling, the latter finally said.

“Geoff.” Anticipation coloured his voice, and then, just in case, he added. “Geoff Grant? You know, the guy Zowie used to work with in New Zealand and Morocco?”

Orlando might have been puzzled and lost at first, but Zowie didn’t need the added explanation. There was no way she would ever forget that name, not after knowing him for so long, and especially not after owing him as much as she did. Geoff had rescued her from Matt’s clutches, and when there had only been darkness around her, it had been his words the ones to lit a light at the end of the tunnel, making her see the path she had to choose.

She had never seen him after leaving Morocco. Ever. Even when Geoff had never left her mind, Zowie had never felt strong enough to visit him. She imagined he was still in Los Angeles and, should have she wanted to find him, there were many ways she could have looked him up. However, a part of her had felt ashamed for having deserted him after all he had done for her, but now that she was better, and bent on starting a new life, Zowie realised he was just another person in the long line of people she owed an apology to.

“He’s been living here in Los Angeles for a number of years.” Elijah carried on. “He got married, you know? He even had a baby not long ago. Cute little fella… proud Papa couldn’t help it and had to show me a picture.”

“A baby?” Orlando asked. “Wow.”

Zowie’s sentiments exactly. She was surprised, but the news didn’t hamper her intentions.

“Is there any way we can contact him?” She asked, and Elijah nodded.

“He gave me his number, you know… just in case.” Zowie found herself in the receiving end of another pointed look, having her confirmation that, besides the news of Geoff’s son, she had also been a topic in that conversation.

“Do you want to see him?”

Orlando’s question reached her ears, soft and inquisitive as well as supportive, and Zowie nodded, resolute. If this was the beginning of her new life, then she might as well start it with the right foot.

Her answer was brief and simple.

“Yes.”

~*~

Hours passed since Zowie made such decision, long ones before she finally got the chance to sit down in the guest room Elijah had prepared for her and Orlando as well as a bachelor like him could, her laptop on the desk as she waited for the instant messaging system to log in.

She had made a promise to her mum: contact her as soon as she could after arriving in Los Angeles. Having been at Elijah’s for most of the afternoon and about to have dinner, Zowie was well overdue. She knew Noemie would scold her the minute her face appeared on her screen but, wasn’t that was mothers all over the world did, anyway?

She just had been having such a good time! Zowie hadn’t realised how much she had truly craved normalcy and peace until it was taken away from her, so reluctant to let go of that newly found state of calmness, Zowie hadn’t realised time had flown past in the shape of hours filled with easy conversation and relaxation until Elijah mentioned dinner. When he did, Noemie’s face popped into her mind, and Zowie knew she couldn’t delay it any longer. As it was, her mum was surely going to tell her off, and she imagined not even the time difference – which at 7 PM in LA meant it was 3 PM of the following day in Wellington – would work. Well, she just hoped her mum could understand, for Zowie was in fact anxious to tell her all about their successful plans.

And she didn’t have to wait long; an instant after the messaging system logged in, she accepted a request for a video chat with her mum, miles and miles away.

“About damn time, Zowie!”

The aforementioned Zowie couldn’t repress the grin that played on her lips at, not only the aggravated tone her mum had chosen to address to her, but also her choice of words. Yep, Noemie hadn’t wasted a single moment before going straight to what bothered her the most.

“Umm… sorry just won’t do, will it?”

Noemie huffed, and the offended expression her face took almost made Zowie burst in giggles, so free she felt.

“You’re right! It simply won’t do!” Huffing once again, Noemie stared at the camera, knowing fully well it was the only way her daughter would feel the complete extent of her feelings. “Zowie, we agreed on right away. _Right away._ And here I’ve been, sitting in front of the computer for God knows how many hours. What happened? Were there any delays with the flight, any problems in Prescott?”

The sudden change in the tone and level of concern in her mum’s voice unleashed the grin Zowie had been fighting hard to control. From full-on mum scolding her firstborn, to concerned parent that gave the image of her daughter in the screen questioning looks, obviously scanning her for any signs that might have slipped past her, all in the span of a second. Mercurial much?

“Absolutely no problems. Everything went according to plan and I’m, well, we both are,” She corrected herself, “at Lij’s, about to have some dinner. I just thought I’d give you a call and let you know everything is fine. Sorry it took me so long. We have been basically catching up, talking… hours slipped by and I didn’t notice. Sorry, again.”

“Apologies accepted. Just don’t do this to me again, you hear me? With everything that has been going on with you two, I don’t think I could handle being in the dark.” Taking a deep breath and sighing, Noemie then asked. “You think you guys were followed or something?”

Zowie shook her head, crossing her legs.

“I don’t think so. There’s no one standing at the door, and Elijah is keeping a constant watch, just in case. No one put a camera on my face in the airport and although they did follow Orlando for a while, he managed to lose them here in LA. So far, everything seems cool… let’s pray it lasts.”

The longing in her daughter’s words told Noemie more than all their previous conversations. While Zowie hadn’t hidden her feelings for the siege they were suffering from the press, it was obvious she had been downplaying it in her benefit.

“Tell me the truth.” She urged her daughter with a gentle voice. “How bad was it? And be honest. I stopped reading the articles after a while, but I do have the feeling there’s a lot you’re not telling me.”

At that, Zowie took a deep breath.

“It was bad, I can’t deny it. And it was especially bad when that picture of me leaving Rebecca’s office came out, because that meant the centre had got involved, and it was then that we decided we had to do something about it. As for the rest… no, I won’t say it was nice, but I could have dealt with it if they hadn’t gone one step too far.”

“And now?”

Zowie’s lips stretched on a wide, happy grin at her mother’s inquiry.

“Now is great. We’ve been talking for hours, the three of us, and it feels… well.” Zowie struggled with her words for a bit, trying to make them be exactly what she wanted them to. “Not like the old days because that was almost ten years ago and we were all different people back then, but like the reunited friends that we are. Lij and I have kept in touch and he knows everything I’ve been up to, but just being here, talking, hanging out… you can’t imagine how _good_ it feels.”

There was sentiment in Zowie’s words; there was passion, joy, and there was also relief, almost as if she had regained control over something that had slipped from her grasp a long time ago. And that was exactly what had happened, Noemie realised.

“I’m happy to hear that, Zowie… so, so happy!”

Noemie’s words were coated with the sympathy she felt, and although she could have said it a million different ways, she doubted her daughter truly understood how much she actually meant those words. She didn’t want to overwhelm her now, seeing her so happy, but Noemie hoped for a moment where they could sit down, face to face, and talk about this with no qualms. The years Zowie had spent away from her family had been hell for Noemie and the rest of them, but she didn’t let that hang between her and her firstborn now that she was back in her life. What she did want, however, was to have Zowie back in New Zealand, hopefully sometime soon. Noemie didn’t hold any hopes of Zowie moving back to Wellington for good for she understood life had taken her elsewhere, but she couldn’t help but pray that, one day, her daughter would be back in her home town… and in her _home_.

“What are your plans now, then?” Noemie asked, edging the topic closer to Zowie’s homeland. On the screen, Zowie shrugged.

“Honestly, mum? I don’t know. We didn’t plan that far ahead. We were so desperate to get away from it all that we didn’t even consider what we could do once we got here. I suppose-“

Zowie was interrupted by a knock on the door, one that was promptly followed by Orlando’s head popping through the slightly open door.

“Are you busy? Can I come in?”

Zowie’s words stumbled one with the other as a blush crept up her cheeks. It wasn’t that her mum hadn’t been in contact with Orlando before; in fact, they had developed a relationship that rested the concerns that had once been inside her. It was so silly, Zowie realised, that the one thing to bother her about this whole unexpected meeting was the fact that her mum saw that they shared a room. How idiotic was that, especially since Noemie had known all along Orlando had moved in with her in Prescott? Why would her mum, who had had three children of her own – although Zowie didn’t even _want_ to go there – be shocked by the fact that her twenty-four years old daughter shared a room with her boyfriend?

Fortunately for her, neither Orlando nor Noemie seemed to have such concerns, for he leaned in and waved at the camera.

“Hi, Noemie!”

Zowie sighed and mentally shook her head, as she simultaneously gave herself a good kick in her behind. So much worry and Orlando breezed in without a single problem! It was a testament to how much Noemie had accepted him that he was on first-names terms with her.

“Hi there, Orlando! How are you? Are you taking good care of my daughter?”

Zowie visibly rolled her eyes at the camera, making sure her mum noticed the gesture. Orlando, on the other hand, grinned unrepentantly and spoke to Noemie.

“I’m fine now that we’re here… let’s hope it lasts.” He said wishfully. “And Zowie’s well taken care of, don’t worry. How are you?”

“Relaxed now that I know that the two of you are away from all that.” Seeing this as her chance to pounce on the subject she most wanted to address, Noemie seized it, hoping Orlando would be the influence she needed to convince Zowie to pay her, at the very least, a visit. “I was asking Zowie what kind of plans you guys have, but she told me you didn’t think that far ahead.”

Orlando nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes, but it was Zowie who answered.

“I think we didn’t want to plan ahead just in case nothing worked as we expected, did we?” She asked Orlando, who had by now sat beside her and was nodding his agreement.

Noemie, knowing it was now or never, brought the topic forward.

“I was thinking… why don’t you guys come here for a visit? It doesn’t have to be long.” She hurried to add. “There might be a few adventurous and very bored paparazzi in Wellington, but nothing compared to Los Angeles. You could come here, stay a while, and then go back to America once things have calmed down. Perhaps, Zowie, you could even spend your birthday here.”

There, she had said it. Now it was up to them to say what they thought about it.

Zowie’s blue eyes flickered briefly to the screen, taking in her mum’s anxious expression before they moved on to Orlando, who sat beside her with a neutral expression on his face. Zowie tried to read something, anything in it that gave away what he felt, what he wanted to do, but then realised he wasn’t going to intervene in her decision-making process. Whatever conclusion she came to, it would be on her own. He would most likely support her, but he wasn’t going to sway her opinion one way or another.

Zowie took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. No point in hiding behind coward decisions, for she knew where they led her. Besides, suddenly, the need to feel the wind blowing in her hair as she stood in front of the sea, of seeing the colourful boat sheds in Hataitai bay, of hiking one more time through Mt. Victoria, grew inside her. Those were the sights she had grown up to, the feelings, the smells, the memories that flooded her, as if a dam, held tightly over the years, had finally given in. And yet, above all, the one thing that blossomed inside her, overpowering everything else, was the urge of seeing her family in the place where her fondest memories had taken place. Her mum, Jared, her grandmothers… even Jewell, although she might not want to see her herself. As for William… Zowie sighed. She would take them as they came, one day at a time.

“You know what?” Zowie finally said. “I don’t think it’s such a bad idea.”

She could have had a hearty laugh at the relieved sighs she got from both Noemie and Orlando. Did they even realise they had done such thing? Shaking her head, Zowie squeezed Orlando’s hand before planting a quick kiss on his cheek as a sign of gratitude for his understanding, and for knowing he had to leave these things to her. Turning back to the laptop screen, Noemie’s stunned face widened Zowie’s grin. She didn’t know whether it was delay, or her mum being completely stunned by her admission.

“Wait… really, Zowie?” Obviously, it was the latter, Zowie mused with a grin. “You’re honestly considering coming down here for a visit?”

Zowie nodded, absorbing the bright and hopeful expression in Noemie’s face and feeling like the worst daughter on the face of the Earth. This was her doing, she realised. Her actions from years ago, even now, led her mum to believe that such thing as Zowie visiting her might not be entirely possible. How could she not feel that way, though? The uncertainty that led her own life had tinted her family’s too. She had promised a visit a number of times before, without doing a single thing to follow on her promise later on. She had indeed been a bad daughter. And a bad sister. And obviously, it was time she started making up for all the pain she had caused.

“I am, mum. I truly am. It’s about time.” Then, lowering her head and adopting her humblest tone, she added. “Just… forgive me for keeping you waiting this long. I… sorry.”

Was it possible that the glimmer of unshed tears in her mother’s eyes was all the more noticeable through the computer’s screen? Zowie felt her own eyes tearing up and a knot taking firm residence in her throat, one that wouldn’t budge. A warm hand ran up her back, circled her shoulder and pulled her close to a warm body whose sole presence meant reassurance. Looking up, she smiled softly at Orlando and he, in return, posed a feather-like kiss on her lips. Looking back at the screen, the deeply moved expression on her mum’s face gave way to a wide smile.

“Should I be expecting you any time soon? Oh, and by the way, remember Orlando that you are invited too. Besides, I think you two might be attached at the hip now or something by now.” The grin on her mum’s lips brought a pink hue to Zowie’s cheeks, one that battled the pleased sensation in her heart at her mother inviting her boyfriend home, an indication of how far things had come.

“Well, it _is_ true that I don’t want to leave Zowie to fend for herself if some curious and bored kiwi paparazzi decide to follow her. And we _might_ be attached at the hip.” Orlando said jokingly, giving Zowie an arched eyebrow that made her blush even redder before turning to the screen. “But it’s also been a while since I last visited Wellington, so I think I’m going to say yes to your invitation. Thanks, Noemie.”

The excitement that took over Noemie’s face brought a smile to Zowie’s lips, overpowering some of the emotion of the moment. Her mum’s eyes glowed and she could almost read the thousand plans she was coming up with as she sat in front of her computer, half a world away.

She was about to say something, even went as far as to part her lips to do so, when Orlando’s phone beeped and he stood up. Leaning in so Noemie could see him, he threw the phone a quick glance and said.

“I have to answer this one. Thanks for the invitation, see you later!” Then, looking at Zowie, he added. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Noemie barely had enough time to say her goodbyes before Orlando left the room, so quickly Zowie could do little but stare at the closed door he had left behind. His phone wasn’t actually inactive, since he constantly got calls from his agent, family or friends, but lately it had been particularly active. She frowned a little, but her mum’s voice demanded her attention.

“He’s busy, isn’t he?” Noemie asked, and Zowie nodded, for there wasn’t much more she could do.

“He is in talks for a new movie, it might be something related to that. Anyway, how is everyone over there?”

The rest of the conversation was easy and effortless, dotted here and there with plans and ideas Noemie came up with as they popped in her mind. The more excited her mum grew about it, the more Zowie looked forward to visiting Wellington. It wouldn’t be easy but, what was in life? Especially after all she had been through? Nevertheless, Zowie was determined to face it like a new challenge, one that made this new life she had decided to begin the day she left Prescott. And there would be challenges, she knew that, as Jewell’s and William’s faces popped in her mind. But there had already been plenty in her life, and she knew very well that her it would never be all that it could be if she didn’t solve the problems she had left behind.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21.**

“Nice place he has here!”

Elijah’s words were laced with appreciation, and although Zowie didn’t tear her eyes from the townhouse before her, she didn’t need to look at her friend to know that Lij’s eyes were most likely wide as he too stared at the building before them.

And it was indeed a nice place. A lovely place, in fact. With its Cape Cod style and pale yellow façade, it looked like the perfect place for a new family to raise their little one. Three-stories high, it was the tallest building on Washington Place in that area of Mar Vista, a neighbourhood of Los Angeles Zowie had read was highly rated for families. Peace surrounded her from every angle, and she had the sensation she would feel quite at home in a place like this. It didn’t surprise her that Geoff had chosen such neighbourhood for this new phase in his life. Just the greenery of the trees and bushes on the sidewalk gave it a homey and tranquil feeling.

But Geoff waited for them inside, most likely impatiently, and Zowie didn’t think it would make a great impression if they kept him and his family waiting. She had a lot of explaining to do, and the least she could do was arrive in time. Giving Elijah a light elbowing in his arm, she pointed the door on top of the stairs right in front of them.

“Shall we?”

Elijah nodded and then gave her a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

“Nervous?” he asked.

Zowie thought about her answer for an instant. Was she nervous? Not per se. She had known Geoff her entire life, and although she had yet to meet his wife and the new addition to their family, she didn’t feel particularly tense at meeting her old friend. On the other hand, however, Zowie did have quite a lot of talking to do once she walked through that door, and a lot to tell Geoff she was sorry for. This man had offered her a hand when no one had; when no one had even known she needed such help. He had taken her away from Matt and given her the one thing that could have put her back on track: a job, a sword in her hand, and Orlando. And she had left it all behind, had left Geoff himself behind with nothing but a quick note scribbled right before leaving her hotel room in Ouarzazate. She didn’t need to think too hard to remember her desperation and sadness as she wrote those brief lines, but also the determination and certainty that had blossomed in her heart as she did so. If those things alone didn’t deserve an explanation, then Zowie didn’t know what did. _That_ was what made her feel a bit uneasy about how things would develop inside that apartment.

“Not really.” She finally answered, and then added. “Which doesn’t necessarily mean I’m free of all worries either, of course. I’m just… I don’t know, I suppose I’m waiting to see how things develop in there.”

Giving her hand another squeeze, Elijah stared at her, his blue eyes sincere.

“I don’t think Geoff invited you over just to give you grief or bite your head off.” He said, and the corner of Zowie’s lips tilted upwards just a hint.

“I know… I just… let’s just ring the bell and see what happens, okay?”

Now this, she thought, was a moment she wished she could share with Orlando. They had been in Los Angeles for two days; two days of glorious and unadulterated peace where no one had bothered them, and although he had planned to go with them at first, a call from his agent had decided otherwise. A meeting had come up with the people in charge of making this new movie Orlando was trying to score, and it had forced him to pull out of this at the very last minute. Although Elijah being there was a great support, a part of Zowie would have loved to have Orlando by her side as well. Another one, however, knew it was better this way. She had hidden behind him once, and it had led her nowhere. This was her life, and she had to learn to live it her way.

Elijah climbed the steps first, his excitement obvious, and Zowie smiled as she shook her head. Where would she be without him? He was always there, always willing to offer her a hand when she needed it. Even now, when things were pretty much solved, Elijah took the lead when he felt she couldn’t do it herself. Zowie’s smile widened. She loved her Hobbit to bits.

It must have taken a grand total of about five seconds for Geoff to come bounding through the door after Elijah rang his bell, towering in the threshold with a huge smile on his face that was almost blinding in its brightness. Zowie stared up at him and her heart jumped to her throat, choking her when she tried to part her lips and speak. Geoff had barely changed since the last time they had seen each other in Ouarzazate. That afternoon, with Zowie locked in a beautiful hotel that had felt like a gilded cage, he had given her life the sense it had lacked until then. It was Geoff who made her see that she had to do things for herself, get better for herself, and stop hiding behind others. As much as she had loved Orlando then, and still did, finding herself had been a priority Geoff had put in her hands. And for that, Zowie owed him more gratitude than she had ever imagined.

When his brown eyes settled on her, Zowie felt the knot in her throat contracting almost painfully, and suddenly, countless images of her childhood in Wellington filled her mind. Images of the first time she had consciously held a sword in her hands, of her trainings, of the times spent with her dad and Geoff teaching her all the secrets to their craft, but above all, memories of that one time in Wellington when his sword had stopped just shy of her throat, the day her life changed forever.

It was then that Zowie realized that Geoff had always been there, every step of the way. He had even been there when she left her family behind, being the one who managed to drag her out of the darkness and earning himself her eternal gratitude. A part of her mind registered the fact that she had parted her lips to speak, but that no sound managed to come out through the tight knot. Not that Geoff would have allowed it, anyway. Bounding down the last step towards her, he threw his arms around Zowie and hugged her so tight to his body, he almost cut her airflow. And she didn’t care. She couldn’t have cared any less.

Geoff mumbled something against her hair, but Zowie couldn’t make a single word out for, due to some reason she couldn’t quite understand, a dam had broken inside her and tears flowed freely down her cheeks as sobs wrecked her. She couldn’t understand her reaction but couldn’t fight it either, so she let herself go, hugged Geoff’s chest tightly and clung to him. In that instant, Zowie knew there would be a lot of this if she went back to Wellington, but the voice in her heart told her that, sometimes, a few tears were more than worth it.

She didn’t know how long it took for them to step apart, but when they did, Geoff held her at arm’s length and studied her thoroughly, as if not quite believing she was actually there, right in front of him. His eyes roamed over her, taking in every feature of her, drinking her in, as if deep down inside he wanted to make sure, with his own eyes, that she was alright. And she was. Teary-eyed and red-faced, but she was alright.

“You look amazing.” Geoff finally said, his voice soft yet full of joy. “So good. So _healthy._ ”

Zowie couldn’t stop the wide smile that played on her lips. He sounded surprised, relieved and proud, all in one, and she guessed he had every right to do so. Especially the latter, since he had had such an active part in helping her get better.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She said, smiling at him with a hint of mischief. “For a middle aged man, of course.”

Geoff’s own lips spread with a smile at her comment before pulling her close once again.

“Middle aged my ass, you cheeky thing! Now inside, both of you. We can have this conversation inside over a cup of coffee and not look like a bunch of complete lunatics out here.”

He didn’t let go of Zowie as he greeted Elijah just as warmly, to which the younger man showed absolutely no discomfort. Geoff kept his arm around Zowie’s shoulders as he led them in, asking questions regarding Zowie’s arrival and Orlando’s whereabouts.

“A meeting came up.” Zowie explained, excusing him. “It was totally unexpected, but he said he would try to make it nonetheless, even if for just a few minutes.”

“Good, that’s good.” A brief shadow of something akin to regret crossed Geoff’s features before he concentrated on her once again. “I’m really looking forward to seeing him. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

Zowie didn’t doubt that for a second. She nodded briefly to show him her understanding, to show him that she was aware of what had happened after she left Morocco. Geoff had never showed Orlando her note and had basically put all the blame on him, which she understood to a certain extent, for Zowie was sure Geoff was merely reflecting on Orlando what he felt himself; that the guilt and the blame were inside Geoff, and he was desperately trying to get rid of them. She gave Geoff a slow nod of her head and the corner of her lips quirked upwards just barely, hoping to show him everything was alright. She didn’t hold any bad feelings for him; after all, it had been nothing but a product of her decisions, and there was no one to blame but her.

And while coming to that realisation some years ago would have sent Zowie fleeing like a preyed upon wild animal, now she was surprised by how calm she felt about it. Yes, there was a nagging feeling somewhere inside her, but she managed to supress it before it could escalate out of control.

There was so much to look at when they stepped into Geoff’s apartment, that Zowie couldn’t quite decide what to focus on first. A very light, very subtle grey-blue covered the walls, and that was the first thing Zowie noticed upon setting foot on Geoff’s tiny foyer. Luminous and cosy, it extended a few metres ahead where she spotted a table, some chairs and a sofa, but all of that was forgotten when a woman stepped before them, a smile on her face.

“So you’re the famous Zowie.”

Zowie had been taught, long ago, that staring was rude. And she knew she was staring, but couldn’t have stopped herself no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t that the woman before her was so incredibly stunning that left her speechless – which didn’t mean she was ugly either – but it was the fact that Geoff had a wife what had her so completely shocked. Geoff. With a wife. A _wife._ This guy had played with her when she was a little girl in Wellington, had told her silly jokes she had reproduced at school with her friend with no success whatsoever, had made her laugh, had tickled her, had shown her the secrets of sword fighting. This guy had taken her away from Los Angeles, had given her the confidence she so badly needed, had opened a door Zowie didn’t dare to open herself. That guy was now married. She had no right whatsoever to make any demands, Zowie mused, but whoever this woman standing before her was, she had better be one thing: good. Because Geoff deserved nothing less than a good and honest woman by his side.

“I am.” Zowie finally said, extending her hand with a smile. “And you are Geoff’s wife, I hope?”

The woman took her by surprise. Blatantly ignoring Zowie’s stretched hand, she took her in her arms for a tight hug. Shocked at first, Zowie stood stunned, her body stiff as a board and her hands outstretched around the woman hugging her so tightly until she finally comprehended what was going on enough to return the gesture. Throwing a questioning look in Geoff’s direction, he grinned unrepentantly and shrugged his shoulders in response.

“I suppose I’ve told her a lot about you?”

Not everything, Zowie mused inwardly, for if he had told her the way she had deserted him in Morocco after everything Geoff had done for her, she doubted the woman would have been so friendly to her.

But there was no more time for further inner musings, for the older woman stepped away from Zowie with a rather apologetic look on her face. With an embarrassed tone in her voice, she spoke.

“Sorry for jumping you like that. But Geoff here is right… I’ve heard so much about you, it’s like I actually know you after all this time. But I’m rambling. Sorry again. I’m Alexandra.”

There was something in that woman that, despite the rather boisterous welcome, made Zowie smile and feel at ease with her. A little shorter than Zowie herself, Alex had long auburn hair, hazel eyes and a body that belied having had a baby barely six months ago. And as she stood right by Geoff, his arm lovingly around her shoulders and her body pressed up against his, Zowie realised that what they had was special. For a woman to finally snatch Geoff after all those years, she realised, she had to be something special indeed!

“I’m Zowie. Zowie Hart. And I know it’s useless to hope Geoff has only told you the good things about me, Alexandra.”

At her words, Geoff’s wife discarded Zowie’s formality with a wave of her hand.

“Just call me Alex.” Then, turning to Elijah, she smiled at him before giving him a quick hug. “Nice to meet you too, Elijah.”

And just like that, the evening took off. After the grand tour of the two-storey apartment, which showed Zowie a lovely place and that only left out the nursery, since baby James was taking his nap, they sat down and, over a cup of coffee, the four of them talked about everything.

“So you’re telling me you spent all this time in Arizona?” Geoff asked as Zowie finished telling her story, his brown eyes fixed on her.

“Yes. I made a stop in New York because that’s where my flight ended and because Lij was there, but once formalities were over with at the centre, I checked in and remained in Prescott until two days ago.”

Alex shook her head, auburn tresses shaking with her distress.

“I think it’s awful what you guys when through there. Having the press at your door, following you every step you take…” She shivered. “That can’t be any good.”

“And it’s not.” Zowie agreed. “We handled it the best we could, but in the end we realised it would be better if we simply left. Orlando and I had discussed it sometime before, but when someone took that picture of me leaving my old therapist office… it was the final straw.” She shrugged and a tiny little smile played on her lips. “Actually, they don’t know they ended up doing us, and me particularly, a favour. I had been thinking about leaving Prescott and starting a new life, but hadn’t they meddled this much, I’m not sure how long that would have taken me. So there, I suppose we beat them in the end.”

Geoff posed a big hand over hers and gave it a strong squeeze, a moved expression taking over his whole face as he stared deeply into her blue eyes.

“Seeing all that… knowing you were being hounded like that and not being able to do a single thing about it… it was hell.” He said in a hoarse whisper, and the knot that had some time ago left Zowie’s throat resurfaced once again, taking firm and permanent residence there. “It wasn’t so bad in Morocco because I could actually _do_ something, you know? I was there, right by your side and I could help you no matter what.” Geoff shook his head, as if trying to dispel a tortuous feeling before it took him over. Then, looking at her with shiny brown eyes, he added. “I’m so glad to have you back, Zowie… you have no idea what it felt like not knowing where on Earth you were. I hated every picture those damn paparazzi took of you and every stupid article someone wrote grasping at whatever threads of information they could find about you, but at least I knew you were alright and God… you have no idea how relieved I felt!”

At that, it was impossible for Zowie to hold her tears back. They blurred her eyes and then rolled down her cheeks, round and fat, before falling on Geoff’s hand as it held hers. Another evidence of how much she had hurt her loved ones and yet, at the same time, the perfect occasion to ask forgiveness and continue closing the cycle on this path Zowie had taken as the beginning of her new life. And of all the things she could say, she knew the most effective one was also the simplest, and at the same time, the hardest one to say.

“I’m sorry. I knew I was hurting you so badly when I left Ouarzazate, but I had to do it, Geoff… I swear I had to do it.” She said vehemently, her voice soft and trembling with tears, but strong with determination. “I never intended to hurt you, that was the last thing in my mind. You had done so much for me… so much! But it had to be done. And you showed me the way yourself.”

At that, puzzlement took over every feature of Geoff’s face. His lips parted and his eyes widened, but never left her face.

“What… what are you talking about? That I showed you what?”

“That I had to do this on my own. Getting better, I mean. Recovering completely. I had been doing an effort and believe me, it was my best. And thanks to you, I was succeeding, but you told me something that put everything into perspective.” When Geoff’s expression grew even more confused, Zowie sketched a tiny smile despite the intensity of the moment. “In my hotel room, remember? Right after I was fired? You went to see me after the job was done that day and told me that the only true and valid reason to get better was myself. That I could do it for whoever I wanted, but that it would only work if I did it for myself, for my sake. And you were right. I mean, I owed you so much and I loved Orlando… I still do! But I couldn’t keep on hiding behind someone else’s back all the time. And when I finally understood what I needed to do, Lij here came into the picture.”

Elijah smiled and winked at her when Zowie turned to him and smiled.

“Zowie called me from Morocco.” He said. “I knew what was going on, I had seen the papers, so when she told me she needed help, I agreed right away. I didn’t quite agree to her not telling you guys where she was going, but I could see what she needed and that she needed to do it herself, so I think sorry is in order from me too.”

Geoff waved him off.

“No need to. I think you have proved yourself as a good friend time and time again. It’s me who should thank you for helping Zowie. Seeing her like this, so healthy, so confident… There was a time when I thought I would never see this again.”

“So did I, Geoff.” Zowie murmured, her voice soft. Lowering her eyes for an instant, she then gave both men a smile. “So did I. I’m just lucky to have the best of friends willing to give me a hand every time I need them. Thank you.”

Geoff stared at her with a smile on his lips and a telling glow in his eyes. Then, taking her by surprise, he gathered her in his arms for a long, tight hug that warmed Zowie’s heart.

“Just please make sure you don’t vanish in thin air like that again, you hear me? Like you said, a middle aged man such as myself… I don’t think I could handle it very well if you did.”

Geoff had thrown his head a couple of inches back when talking, so he could look at her straight in the eye. There was a cheeky hint in his smile, and Zowie, despite how moved she was by his words and the plea in them, bare even though when concealed behind a joke, felt her heart clenching in her chest. She wouldn’t hurt this man again. The first step had been taken, and she was determined to remain in the right track.

“Middle aged my ass.”

Geoff smiled at her, but before he could say anything, a loud cry coming through the baby monitor that rested on the table stopped him. The four of them were startled by its loudness, but it was Alex who calmed them down with a smile as she stood up.

“Nap time is over, I’m afraid. I’ll be right back.”

Once Alexandra was gone from the room and up the stairs towards the nursery, Elijah asked Geoff.

“How old you said James is?”

“Six months old.” Geoff answered. “And a real cutie, if I say so myself. Very handsome lad. Takes it after his dad, of course.”

Zowie made a point of rolling her eyes so emphatically, Geoff couldn’t possibly miss it.

“Stop it. You’re practically _oozing_ pride. You’re disgusting.”

Geoff grinned, giving her a smug smile.

“Just wait and see. Then you’ll tell me whether I’m lying or not.”

And as it turned out, he wasn’t lying. James was, indeed, a very handsome little lad. A beautiful baby. And he had, indeed, taken after his father. His hair was very light still, barely a tuft at the top of his head, but it was distinctively brown like his dad’s. As for his eyes, they were exactly like Geoff’s. And when, still in his mom’s arms and still looking a bit grumpy after waking up from what surely had been one amazing nap, he looked at Zowie, she felt a tug in her heart and a wave of warmth filling her completely. She had cousins of the most varied ages so she had been around babies her entire life, but the way James looked at her won her over. She had never been aloof to the babies in her life, but usually, she had been too busy with her own life to care much about them. With this baby before her, however, she was a goner from the minute she laid eyes on him.

“You want to hold him?”

Alexandra’s voice dragged Zowie back to reality. Did she want to hold him? A part of her actually compelled her to.

“Can I?” She asked, and Alexandra smiled.

“Sure.”

He was light in her arms, and obviously very, very curious about this stranger who held him in her arms. James stared intently at her, his brown eyes fixed on her, trying to recognise her. And as he did, Zowie could do little else but stare at him in return, enthralled by the little human being she was holding as her heart thumped in her chest. He was so tiny, so helpless… and so, so beautiful! She felt herself falling for him instantly. And the feeling seemed to be mutual, for James gave her a wide, toothless smile that shook her to the core and that made her hug him tight against her body as a nondescript, strangled sound left her throat. What that kid did to her, Zowie didn’t know, but suddenly, it felt as if a part of her had come alive, a part she had never even known existed; one that made her make cooing, soothing sounds at James and swing slightly as his face hid in her neck.

“Takes it after his dad. Told you so.”

Geoff’s words came to her as if from a distance, and Zowie nuzzled James’ soft cheek before looking up at his dad.

“I stand corrected.” She said, looking up at him with a smile. Then, when her eyes met James’ and he grinned at her once again, her heart rate kicked up a notch. “Charming little guy. Can’t see how he got any of that from _you_ of all people, but he certainly does look like you. A lot. And he’s gorgeous.”

“I keep saying that, but no one takes me seriously. Can’t see why.” Alex joked and stared at Zowie, a smile on her lips that told the younger woman she knew something that escaped her. She discarded the thought quickly, however, and although the thought of handing the baby back to his parents did cross her mind, she promptly kicked it aside. When James wrapped his tiny little hand around a lock of her hair and tugged lightly, his head still resting on her shoulder, the idea vanished completely.

It was Geoff who gave words to those feelings Zowie hadn’t been able to understand.

“Feeling broody, Zowie?”

Her eyes didn’t leave James’ face as he tried his earnest to take the long lock of her hair to his mouth despite her efforts not to let him do so. Was that the feeling that had taken over her the minute she laid eyes on James, the one that made her refuse the sole idea of handing him back to his parents, where he belonged?

Zowie wasn’t sure, but there was _something_ there, something this tiny little baby in her arms had awoken that no one else had brought to life before. Yes, she had been around babies before. Yes, she had held them in her arms and had been affected in one way or another by their presence. Never, however, to such a deep level as little James had. A part of her had come to life; something, a need, an urge, something that pushed her to hold this tiny baby in her arms and don’t let go. Did that mean her body was trying to tell her something? That it was ready, eager even, to embark on a new adventure that would give her a beautiful little thing like the one she held so close to her heart? Was she, as a person and a woman, ready for that? She had a hard time repressing the image of her holding a baby with brown hair and brown eyes in her arms before it threw her off her centre so badly, she lost all perspective on things. On one hand, would Orlando even agree to it? And on the other, there were still many things to do before she even gave maternity a second thought.

“I don’t know.” She finally answered, at last tearing her eyes from James and focusing them on his dad. “I’m not sure it would be too wise to give this too much of a thought right now. I just want to take things easy for a while.”

By the way Geoff smiled at her, knowingly and yet mysteriously, Zowie might as well have given him a completely different answer. Visibly shaking her head at him, she rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, determined to ignore that look on his face, for it made that feeling inside her grow to new proportions she didn’t know how to handle.

They resumed their conversation, but with topics far less compromising and controversial. Alexandra, who had heard a lot about Zowie from her husband, asked her lots of questions regarding New Zealand and Zowie’s past in sword fighting. With James alternating between the arms of his mum, dad and the newcomers he was so intrigued about, Zowie told the story of how she had got interested in sword fighting, the years of lessons with her dad and Geoff, and her life in Wellington. It was unavoidable bringing William up every few minutes when she talked about her passion, but his influence and his presence were undeniable. Whatever had happened between them, whatever they needed to work out – and God knew Zowie had no idea whether they would ever be able to – but denying him, ignoring what a big and important presence he had been in her life was simply impossible. She tried to keep that part as prejudice free as she could, and although there were times when it was hard because the bitterness of her father’s lies was still there, Zowie surprised herself realising she could do such thing, when in the past she had been completely unable to. She didn’t push herself neither tried to fill herself with expectations, but she knew that, one day or another, William would have to be faced and forgiven, and that she would have to ask for forgiveness for being so deliberately cruel to him.

It was right when Elijah, amidst conspiratorial grins thrown in her direction, asked her to tell the story of how she had met Orlando and earned himself a roll of Zowie’s eyes, that the bell rang interrupting them all. Geoff excused himself and went to answer as Zowie began to tell the story, which was adorned by Elijah’s quick and unasked for collaborations, which painted a picture far more colourful that got her rolling her eyes all over again.

“Well, yes… I did end up with Geoff’s sword aimed at my throat, but it was a _blunt_ blade, not a live one.” Zowie explained, giving Elijah a meaningful look with her blue eyes that lit a mischievous spark on his own as James sat on her lap, tugging once again at a lock of her hair. “And yes, I was distracted from the word go, but I had my reasons.”

“Yes, and they have all just walked through the door.”

Elijah’s words made Zowie turn around, and indeed, the reasons why she had made such a fool of herself that day in Wellington stood by the door wearing jeans that hung low on his hips and a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles in a most delectable way. There was a small smile on his lips as he walked in, but it froze there when his brown eyes settled on her.

Orlando stood there, his eyes going from Zowie to the baby on her lap that now stared at him with what he knew had to be the same level of wonder that showed in his own eyes. But he couldn’t help it. Orlando had come to Geoff’s house at Zowie’s insistence. It’s not that he didn’t want to make amends with the man; he did, he just imagined things would feel, at the very least, awkward. He and Geoff hadn’t parted in the best of terms after Morocco, and although he understood Zowie’s motives now, a part of Orlando still held a grudge about the way Geoff had handled things, blaming it all on him. Which was about right in a way he imagined, but he still resented that some.

However, as he stood right by Geoff’s door, all Orlando could see was Zowie with a baby in her arms. A part of his brain, one that still managed to function, mused that the child surely was Geoff’s son, but the rest of him was clouded by some of the most primal and confusing feelings he had ever experienced in his life. Babies were cute, yes. That was a fact stated by people all over the world and, sometimes throughout his life, Orlando had agreed to it. Other times, not so much. James, for an instance, was as cute as he could be. He stared at him with curious eyes, his little hand wrapped around a lock of Zowie’s hair. And the sight of her, happy, relaxed, healthy, with that child in her arms, did weird things to him, things that got his heart beating rapidly in his throat and his mind conjuring images that at the same time unsettled him and filled him with longing.

When Zowie smiled at him and James posed his head on her shoulder with a familiarity that made Orlando’s heart skip a beat, he closed the distance between them in just a few steps. His hand slipped behind her neck and, before even saying hello to the others, planted a kiss on Zowie’s lips that spoke of the mixed feelings inside him that he couldn’t comprehend.

At least, until little James cried loudly, obviously disturbed at having Zowie’s attention stolen from him. Both Orlando and her jumped apart startled, both inexperienced when it came to babies and afraid they might have hurt him somehow. When he snuggled close to her, however, he earned himself a soft laugh from Zowie before she turned her attention back to Orlando.

“Hi.” She greeted him, a soft and wide smile on her lips as her arms went around James’ small body, who had now noticed her paua shell and was busy trying to wrap his little fingers around it.

Orlando smiled brightly at her before turning to their hosts with an apologetic look on his face.

“So sorry… apparently, I forgot all about manners.” Turning his attention to Alexandra, who had stood up and was next to her husband, Orlando said. “I’m Orlando, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

If Alexandra was impressed by his presence or by having some famous actors sitting in her living room, she didn’t mention nor showed it. Taking Orlando’s hand, she introduced herself and offered him something to drink, which he declined with a smile.

“Sorry for being so late. The meeting took longer than I expected and I couldn’t get out of it.” Orlando’s voice was apologetic, and his dark eyes showed his regret as they lingered briefly on everyone in the room. “Did I miss too much?”

Zowie was about to speak when Geoff interrupted her.

“Well, we did get up to date with Zowie here and we talked a lot about everything. At least, until James woke up, that’s it. He has barely left her lap ever since.” With a wide, conspiratorial grin, he then added. “He seems quite taken with her.”

Yes, well, baby James wasn’t the only one, Orlando mused as his gaze took Zowie in, the glow in her skin as it flushed under his intense perusal. He had never been particularly affected by babies or women with babies as other people were, but the sight of her with James on her lap was consistently doing things to him Orlando couldn’t explain nor understand. Then, to add up to his confusion, Geoff’s comments about his son and Zowie growing so close did nothing to help.

Zowie felt the blush in her cheeks and she was sure, painfully so, that everyone else in the room could as well. That Geoff alluded so clearly to the bond that seemed to have grown so quickly between her and his son in front of Orlando, when she still hadn’t quite understood it herself, only made her all the more aware of the craziness of it all. And the way Orlando had looked at her upon his arrival, the way his eyes had gone from James to her, how they had darkened, the kiss he had given her… she barely managed to repress a shiver. For a fleeting instant, Zowie had been almost sure that Orlando had experienced the exact same and mind-boggling feelings she had felt earlier.

“How was your meeting, man?”

Zowie threw Elijah a look so grateful, she was sure the relief showed in her entire body. There was her friend, giving her a hand once again, just as she began to think she would explode of embarrassment and confusion. Lij arched an eyebrow at her as his sole sign of recognition before turning his attention to Orlando.

“Very good, thanks for asking. Or so it seemed, anyway. You never know with this stuff.” Orlando shrugged. “At the very least, they seemed quite keen and determined to have me in the movie. There aren’t any major studios involved, so they might be able to evade the pressure of it choosing another actor.”

And Zowie so hoped it would work for him! Since _Kingdom of Heaven_ , Orlando’s career hadn’t taken the path everyone had expected it to. He had been type casted as the heartthrob doing summer blockbusters and not many people was willing to take the risk of having him starring their movies after _Kingdom of Heaven_ hadn’t been as successful as expected at first. For him to have a chance to prove that he was good, that was something she prayed for every day.

It wasn’t long before they were all caught in the memories of the time shared in New Zealand, filling Alexandra in all the not-so-secret stories about their outings, the adventured filming and Zowie’s involvement in them. When Elijah recounted – with great pleasure, Zowie mused as she shot him a look that was half murderous, half amused – her experience as an Uruk-hai, it earned the laughter of everyone in the room. James, a little startled at first at the sudden noise, then followed suit with his baby laughter, doing incredible things to Zowie’s heartbeat.

It was only when James needed to be changed and, in his mum’s arms stretched a little hand in Zowie’s direction, that the meeting was brought to a pause, for she was helpless under the charm of the little guy. Excusing herself, she went with Alexandra, even though she knew she would be of absolutely no help whatsoever. The men, left alone, followed the women with their gazes until Elijah spoke.

“They sure are quite taken with each other.” He said, a tiny smile on his lips.

Geoff imitated his gesture.

“James is usually very good with people, so it doesn’t surprise me. Told you before, he’s a charmer. And he’s got Zowie wrapped around his little finger.” Looking at Orlando with a wide grin, he added. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Orlando snorted.

“I can share my girlfriend with a baby, Geoff. I’m not _that_ bad!”

Something in Orlando’s words, he noted, dampened some of Geoff’s mood, and when the man next looked at him, the look in his eyes had changed, going from proud to decidedly regretful.

“I think it’s me who’s not very good at sharing. I’m not sure I should bring this up just like this, but I suppose this is as good a time as any to say this, so… I’m sorry, Orlando. I know we should have talked this out… worked it out ages ago, but…” Geoff struggled, as if finding the right word to express his feelings was giving him the hardest time. “I behaved like a complete idiot.”

While Orlando knew exactly what Geoff referred to, at least in general terms, he was still a bit lost when it came to the specifics. And even he had to admit that a part of him, perhaps an evil one he shouldn’t allow see the light of day, wanted Geoff to say the words. The man was right; they should have talked about this a long time ago.

“Morocco. I’m talking about Morocco and everything that happened there. I behaved like an idiot. First I thought you would only end up hurting Zowie and when she left, when she ran away… I behaved like a complete bastard.” Shaking his head with regret, Geoff eyed the stairs that led to the top floor, making sure the women weren’t coming back and hearing what wasn’t meant for them. “I blamed it all on you when I too had a part in her decision. A big one, actually. I thought Zowie had left because of you, of what had happened, that it was all your fault, but then I found out I had a saying in the matter. That what I said to her actually prompted her departure. I never said these things to you in Morocco, and seeing her now, doing so well, so healthy, so different from our time there… I’m sorry. I truly am.”

So yes, the little devil inside him was pleased and doing a jig, but on the other hand, Orlando felt like a bastard for feeling that way. He felt satisfied that Geoff had to admit his mistake, for he had made Orlando feel like the worst guy to ever walk this Earth when Zowie left. And yet, he wasn’t. He had learnt a lesson from Zowie and her experiences, and that was that revenge led you nowhere and that it only made you bitter inside. It felt great to be revalidated now, after all that time, but Orlando didn’t want to dwell on the more bitter feelings inside him.

“Look, Geoff… we all made mistakes when it came to Zowie. We all enabled her in some way to be the way she was. Sure, she made her mistakes on her own.” Although one of them had had his active participation in it, Orlando mused, thinking of that night in Wellington when he had drunk so much. “But we all caved in at one point or another. I have talked to her about this and it took me some time, but now I know why she did what she did. And knowing that means I know why you acted that way in Morocco. We didn’t know where she was or how she was and, well… every evidence pointed in my direction when it came to the reasons she had for leaving. I can’t blame you. I suppose that, in your position, I would have done the same.”

Geoff nodded thoughtfully, as if pondering his words, and then looked at Orlando straight in the eye.

“You can’t say you didn’t hate me, at least for a while.”

Orlando grinned, as if caught in the act.

“I did, yes. And for a long while.” Lowering his head for a second, he then raised his eyes to meet Geoff’s. “But Zowie and I have talked things through. I have her with me now, and honestly, that’s all that matters. I want her to be happy, and it won’t happen if I hold a grudge to one of her greatest friends.”

When Geoff smiled reluctantly at him, Orlando knew they had come to terms with what had happened three years ago, and the look they shared told him the older man thought the exact same thing. Zowie was back in their lives. Whatever problems they had had, now belonged in the past, and boy, were they glad to leave them there!


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22.**

“Okay, excuse my son for being so rude. It’s way past his bedtime and he’s obviously more than a little grizzly.”

Oh, Zowie did excuse. Grizzly or not, James was still the cutest thing she had ever seen, and refused to let him go. He did shift here and there incessantly in her arms, unable to find a position comfortable enough for him to fall asleep, but still Zowie held him. Yes, it was way past his bedtime and she felt horrible for screwing his sleeping time up and, consequently, his parents’ entire night, but this would be the last chance in a long time she would have to hold him so close to her. Even despite the rather short week they had known each other, Zowie had become quite attached to that little boy that awakened inside her things she didn’t quite understand and couldn’t control. But now she was leaving Los Angeles, and Zowie wanted to steal as much time with James as it was possible.

“I’m sorry.” She said to Alexandra as the older woman stared at her with a small smile on her lips. “You really didn’t have to come.”

“And have no one seeing you guys off? No way. That would have been just cruel. Besides, I don’t think you would have got on that plane without saying goodbye to Jamesie.”

Zowie blushed slightly at Geoff’s remark, both pleased and a little embarrassed. Pleased that Geoff had thought of how nice a gesture it would be to see them off at LAX, and on the other hand, a little flustered at having her obvious soft spot for James so openly displayed. She stole a quick, sideways glance at Orlando standing beside her and found him grinning, his eyes fixed on her and the baby in her arms. She couldn’t help it that her feelings were so obvious when she was around James, but it worried her how Orlando took them and what he thought of them. Did he feel pressured by the broodiness Zowie failed so completely to conceal? She knew in her mind that it simply wasn’t going to happen just then, that no matter how strong a feeling cute Jamesie awoke in her, she was in no way prepared for having one of her own.

Her heart, however… her heart simply ignored the voice of reason. What if Orlando was scared because of that, what if he thought he wasn’t prepared and thought she was trying to push him into doing something he really didn’t want to do? Orlando got along great with James, even if he, having never been around babies, was still a little wary around him. That didn’t mean, however, that he had to feel the same way she did whenever she held that baby close to her heart.

“I still think you didn’t have to, but thank you. I really appreciate it.” She said finally, and both Geoff and Alexandra waved it off.

“Honestly, guys… did you really think no one would come to say goodbye to you?” Elijah said, walking up to them and unloading a bag full of the most varied candies and sweets in Orlando’s hands, which he barely managed to stretch out to catch. “Supplies for the long flight.” Lij explained with a smile. “You can thank me later.”

“Well, we sure didn’t want to cause any trouble. But like Zowie said, we do appreciate you guys being here.” Orlando smiled at the three people standing before him and pulled Zowie closer to him. “We had a great time here thanks to all of you, but it’s time to move on to the next stop, isn’t it?” His last words were directed at Zowie, and she nodded, a smile on her lips.

“Yes, it is. Thank you so much, guys… I know we came to Los Angeles running away from those who chased us all the time, but I never imagined I would have such a great time here or that I would get to reconnect with so many old friends… and even make some new ones.” Zowie smiled at Alexandra and then kissed James’ forehead who, despite his bad mood, smiled toothlessly at her. “But like Orlando said, New Zealand is calling. I worked out some unfinished issues here, but God knows I still have to tackle a few over there and I’ve been delaying it for far too long.”

And she was right. Three years since she had moved to Prescott, plus another four since she had first arrived in Los Angeles made a total of seven years of unfinished business that she was finally ready to pounce on, and all because of her. Because while it was great to have Orlando by her side, have his love and undivided support, it was Zowie herself who had to do these things, and never before since leaving her home country had she felt as fit and prepared to do such thing as she did now. She had found peace, and was ready to extend it to all aspects of her life.

“Well, I think the best we can do is wish you luck.” Geoff said. “And tell you that we’re here for you no matter what. Oh, and that you’re more than welcome to come back. Soon, preferably.”

Zowie’s grin was wide at that comment, and she stepped out of Orlando’s’ embrace to give Geoff a one-armed hug.

“Thank you so much, Geoff. For everything.” She said, looking into his eyes. She didn’t have to elaborate; the two of them knew exactly what she was talking about. Without Geoff’s help so long ago, Zowie had no idea where she would be now, or whether she would be alive at all to begin with.

“Say hi to everyone over there for me, will you?” Elijah asked and Geoff nodded in agreement. “I can’t make any promises, but I’m hoping to fly there some time soon. I kind of miss it after so long.”

“Will do. And I’ll make sure to ask Jay to show you all the best surf spots in the country. He did a good job showing you guys the best ones in Wellington back then, and I’m sure he’s added a few more over the years.”

Elijah nodded enthusiastically, his blue eyes widening to unknown proportions.

“Oh yes, yes! I could use some surfing down there. Too bad I’ll miss my favourite beach companion.” He winked at her and Zowie smiled, remembering the picture of the two of them in their bathing suites Elijah had in his home, taken such a long, long time ago.

“It’s a date.”

Elijah winked at her, and soon there was no more time for anything other than rushed well wishes and goodbyes, for their flight to Wellington was called. Zowie and Orlando hugged Geoff, Alexandra and Elijah, thanked them profusely for their help when they needed it so much, and promised to come back soon, but it was James who Zowie had the hardest time parting from. He had finally fallen asleep in her arms, and he looked so beautiful and so peaceful, Zowie almost ran away with him. Reason was more powerful, however, and she handed the sleeping baby back to his mum, who welcomed him with a smile. Then, standing next to Orlando once again, and feeling his arm around her waist, she looked up at him.

“Ready?” He asked, as if giving her a last chance to back off if she wasn’t feeling ready for this.

But she was. She did feel ready for this, ready to tackle all the unfinished business she should have faced a long time ago. She had grown up a lot in the past three years, and with his support, Zowie knew she could face it all.

“Yes.” She said, giving him a wide smile. “Let’s go.”

And with another round of hugs and kisses, Zowie and Orlando finally walked to their assigned door, and before crossing it, turned around and gave their friends one final wave goodbye, absorbing each and every single one of their well wishes, for no matter how sure Zowie was of what she was doing, she still knew a little extra help could never hurt.

~*~

The seats were incredibly comfortable; business class was amazing, and although she had told Orlando not to go overboard, he had spared no expenses. Zowie had scolded him, telling him it wasn’t necessary to spend so much money when they could easily travel in another class, fairly cheaper. What she hadn’t counted on, however, was his reasoning. Yes, they could easily travel in a different class. Yes, it would be cheaper, although that wasn’t of importance to him.

But there were two reasons why he had chosen business despite her qualms. One, they needed all the leg room they could get if they were going to face a sixteen hours long flight. That, Zowie mused as she made herself more comfortable, stretching her legs as if wanting to prove his words, was true. She hadn’t had such benefits when she had flown from Wellington to Los Angeles, and even at 18, she had felt the strain of such a lengthy immobility. The other reason, however, wasn’t that frivolous. In a more crowded space, with lots of other people enclosed there for the thirteen hours it would take them to land in Auckland, there was a much, much bigger chance they would be recognised. They had been all over the press not long ago and there was a big chance the worse could happen, so in the end, Zowie had stopped arguing Orlando’s choice of seating in that Air New Zealand plane.

“You know they made planes with our faces in them when the last of the _Rings’_ movies came out, right?”

Orlando’s voice tore her from her musings, and Zowie smiled at him as she sat up in her comfortable seat.

“So I heard. I saw some pictures online back then, too, and I remember thinking you all must have been quite freaked out by it.”

Orlando’s eyes widened at her words, and the look he gave her told her he thought that was the understatement of the year.

“Freaked out? You bet! Try having a jumbo-sized print of your face right in front of you and then you tell me. Nothing like seeing your eyeball pass by while you’re comfortably resting in your seat.”

“See? That’s exactly why I’m not an actress. I got it all out of my system after that hot December day dressed as an Uruk-hai and the three soaking wet months in Dry Creek Quarry playing the warrior Elf in the dark. Ever since, I’ve decided it’s better for me to watch from the wings.”

Orlando’s smile widened, and he threw an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kissing her temple, they remained in a peaceful, companionable silence for a while with Zowie’s head posed on his shoulder. He could feel her even breath in the way her chest pressed against his with every rise and fall that spoke of her calmness, and with the plane well in their way to New Zealand for over an hour, he bet that was the ideal state for her to be. There were, however, questions that plagued him and concerned him. They had talked about this trip, Zowie had shared her enthusiasm and doubts with him, but still Orlando couldn’t help but wonder how she truly felt about it. He wanted to bring it up, but at the same time dreaded to. Zowie had reassured him time and again that she felt strong and confident about making this trip, but now that they finally were in the plane… how did she feel?

He decided the best way to put those wandering questions to rest was voicing them before they ate him up inside.

“Nervous?”

To her credit, Zowie didn’t tense up beside him. She barely shifted, as if to make herself more comfortable, and then looked up at him, her blue eyes clear as pure crystal.

“There’s no point on denying it, is there? I am, that’s true, but I also want to do this.” She took a deep breath and then let out a loud sigh. “I know there are a lot of people there that want to see me – my mum, Jared, my grandmothers, but…”

“But there are others who don’t.”

Zowie nodded slowly, almost reluctantly. While there were many who couldn’t wait for her return and that would surely spend the next few hours waiting anxiously for their plane to land, there were others who were not so eager and happy about her returning to Wellington. More accurately, one person had showed no joy, neither a single sign of interest about Zowie finally finding her way back home.

Jewell.

“I don’t think Jewell will handle all this very well. She’s still so resented at me for what I did, that I don’t think having everyone so happy to see me will do her feelings for me any good.” Zowie said, lowering her gaze for a second, a gesture that told Orlando how much it bothered her to have her little sister so mad at her. “I never really fathomed how important I was for her, you know? Last time I saw her she wasn’t even in secondary school yet. She was so devastated when I left, and I don’t think I ever sent her more than a couple of emails during that time. But now, when I think about it, I can that see she admired me, that she looked up to me, and all I ever did was disappoint her! I was so selfish, so centred in my own issues, that I never even gave a second thought as to how it all affected those who loved me. Now, thinking how I will patch things up with her… it really bothers me.”

“But?” Orlando whispered, sensing she was far from over. Zowie gave him a lopsided grin and snuggled as close to him as their seats allowed them to.

“But I have to give it a try nonetheless. And if Jules still hates my guts, then… well, I suppose I will just have to deal with it. At least I will be reassured that I tried everything I could.”

Orlando stared down at her, and he doubted he was able to conceal his amazement, his pride and his love for this woman and how far she had come. He had a fleeting image of the girl he had met so long ago, all excitement and boundless energy and filled with a lust for life that matched his on occasions, and simply surpassed it in others. The image, however, faded when confronted with the reality of her now. Grown up, mature, calm, having come to terms with her past and her mistakes, Zowie was the woman he had always envisioned she would be. With far more scars than he had ever expected, sure, but they were scars now, healed and over with; they didn’t bleed their poison on her anymore.

The love he felt for her filled every inch of him, overflowing and overpowering him until he was defenceless to it. And for once, Orlando didn’t care. He let the feeling filter through him from the inside out, drawing strength from it and letting it fortify his resolve. He would always be there for her. He would be there the moment Zowie stepped off the plane, when her family entered her life once again. Orlando would be there to witness their love for her, but would also be there if anyone tried to hurt her in any way. Be it her sister or anyone else, it didn’t matter to him; Zowie had come a long, long way to let anyone bring her down with selfish motives.

Which brought him to the other person that would re-enter her life as soon as she set foot in Wellington.

William.

When he looked down at her once again, her clear blue eyes were fixed on him, as if she could read his every single thought on his face.

“Just… take it easy, okay? Let’s go to your old place, visit your mum, see Jay and everyone else who wants to see you… but we’ll figure out the rest later on, okay? With everything. And everyone.”

Zowie didn’t need Orlando to elaborate on that; she knew exactly what, or rather _who_ , he was referring to. Jewell might be mad at her and all, but somewhere in hear heart, Zowie knew she could handle her. Of course it would hurt her if her sister decided she never wanted to see her again, but it was meeting her dad what troubled her the most. And obviously, it was what concerned Orlando above everything else as well.

“I didn’t come this far to let anyone ruin this for me, don’t worry. Whatever happens, happens. I can’t make myself responsible for other people’s actions, and if my dad ever decides to come back into my life, well… I suppose we’ll need to have a long and very serious conversation about many, many things.” Giving him a smile, she added. “Something I never imagined would happen, so yes, I’ve come a long way.”

Orlando smiled, his heart once again overflowing with emotion as he pulled her as close as they could. He wanted her to come full circle, wanted her to do what her heart asked her to, but God was he afraid it would end up destroying her! Zowie seemed so determined, however, so confident of what she would do when the time came, that he didn’t have the heart to share his insecurities with her. They would remain deep inside him, allowing Zowie the room she needed to bloom and grow. But when the time came when she needed his help, he would be there, ready to protect her.

From whatever or whoever was necessary.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 23.**

 

It was a long flight.

Sixteen hours long, to be precise. Thirteen hours from Los Angeles to Auckland to begin with, the biggest city in New Zealand, located at the north of the country. There wasn’t much to see at the airport except the sea beyond its windows but, was there an airport in the world that was truly interesting for an in-transit passenger? And especially for one who was coming back home to right so many wrongs?

It wasn’t an easy flight either. It wasn’t Zowie’s first flight under any circumstance, but the strong turbulence during the crossing of the last patch of the Pacific had made it rough for her. Or perhaps it was her nervousness, she didn’t know; in the end, between the turmoil outside the place and the one within her, she had ended up clutching Orlando’s hand so hard, she had left fingernail marks there she couldn’t apologise enough for later on.

Eventually, however, they had made it to safe ground, and when she found herself in her own country, countless emotions warred inside her, and hadn’t she been so tense, she was sure she would have collapsed, falling asleep most likely on her feet. And as uninteresting as the sight outside Auckland’s airport might be for someone who had spent the night on a plane missing hours of sleep and having been robbed a day in life in the crossing of the international date line, Zowie still posed a hand on the glass before her as her eyes stared longingly at the bay beyond the tarmac. Her country. Her home Northern Island. The place she had thought she would never see again. A two and a half hour stopover might seem unbearably long after a sleepless night, but it helped her connect with her uprooted foundations and set her mind on what she was about to do, suddenly more real than ever before.

Three hours later, and by the time Zowie and Orlando walked hand in hand down a corridor and towards the international arrivals area of the Wellington airport, Zowie felt, at the same time, both nervous and eager. Nervousness would never leave her body, she guessed, not until she wasn’t done with everything she had come to do here, but the eagerness was welcome, because it overpowered the former greatly.

Orlando must have sensed something in her, because he slowed their pace a little, enough to attract her attention but not to stop the flow of people coming behind them.

“Ready?” He asked, and Zowie smiled up at him. She had said she looked like hell after so many hours in a plane, but for Orlando, as he looked down into her clear blue eyes, she looked as beautiful as ever.

“A little too late to chicken back right now, don’t you think? I’m not spending another sixteen hours on a god damned plane just because I’m a coward.” Grinning, she reached for his face and ran her knuckles softly down his jaw. “I’m okay, Orlando. Really. Strangely enough, I’m looking forward to this. I just want to make things right for once and for all. That’s all.”

And she did. There was, of course, a hint of dread and fear that refused to leave her, but Zowie did look forward to seeing her family in their own turf, where their memories together had been created. Knowing that Orlando cared so much for her, enough to turn back without the slightest hesitation, filled her heart to burst with love for him. She knew he was aware that she ready to face this challenge, just as she knew it wasn’t her what worried him the most, and his concern made her feel secure and cared for. But she wanted to do this, and what he did added for her determination.

Orlando nodded, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, then.” He said, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Let’s do this.”

So that’s how they walked into the arrivals area, how they were met by the sight of two of the people Zowie loved most in her life: hand in hand, as a whole, a unit, ready to face whatever came their way. And that was how Noemie and Jared saw them: the evidence of a love that had been a permanent fixture in Zowie’s life, that had led her to do crazy things but that had also, eventually, taken her out of the darkness.

“Zowie, Zowie!! Over here!”

As if she hadn’t seen them! Even without her mum’s excited cry, Zowie could have spotted them a million miles away, their faces as familiar as her very own. Her mum, with those features such as her lips and nose that she had passed on to her daughter, beautiful and elegant at forty eight; and Jared, tall, proud and so handsome, staring at her with those Hart blue eyes they shared. They waved at her from a short distance, beaming smiles on their faces as they broke into a run – or was she who did it? – and took her in their arms, swinging her around. That had to be Jared, Zowie mused as she laughed, full of joy. In her absence, the lanky boy had developed into a strong man whose passion for rugby and other sports had turned him into the kind of man Zowie was sure attracted _many_ a feminine glance. And her mum… her mum was in tears. Happy tears, she hoped, as Jared let her go and deposited in Noemie’s arms. She mumbled word after word in between sobs – or was it Zowie herself? – and when Noemie finally let her go, the girl was able to stare at her mum at an arm’s length.

“Let me look at you. Let me _really_ look at you.” Noemie said, her voice thick with emotion as she grabbed Zowie by the shoulders and scanned her form from head to toe, a disbelieving look in her face. Traces of the tears she had shed brightened her grey eyes into pools of silver and made the shine wonder as they met Zowie’s blue ones, almost as if her mum stared at her for the first time. “You’re back, love.” She whispered fervently, her hands slipping to Zowie’s cheeks, her thumbs running lightly and reverently over her skin. “You’re back!”

Once again, Zowie found herself engulfed in her mum’s loving embrace, and she accepted every second of it, greedily absorbing every touch, every sigh, every instant of what she had so stubbornly refused years ago, when she had needed it the most. It had always been there, for there had never been a shortage of love and affection in Zowie’s life, but in her most selfish moment, she had pushed everyone away from her, simply because she couldn’t even deal with herself, let alone let others do so. Now, however, she wished she could stay like that forever.

But there were other people who wanted to hug her… and formal introductions that needed to be made, even though there were no strangers amongst them in that instant.

Noemie’s hug was followed by Jared’s, who once again swung her around, making Zowie squeal with joy like a little girl before setting her down. So far so good, a little voice said in her head. If the rest of her stay in New Zealand could be predicted by these first few, joyous minutes, then she had every reason to cling to the hope that had led her there.

“You look amazing, Zow! Is it all the Southern Hemisphere’s doing, or does this guy over here have anything to do with it?”

Zowie could have thanked her brother for the smooth, effortless way he had included Orlando in the conversation. Giving Jared one last hug, Zowie returned to her boyfriend’s side and, sliding an arm around his waist, looked at her family with a wide smile on her lips.

“It’s hardly a surprise, but I suppose I still should do the proper introductions. Mum, Jay… meet my boyfriend.”

Yes, she did feel a little silly making introductions for people who not only had chatted online many a time during the crisis in Prescott, but that had also met each other years ago. There had been a change, nonetheless, and she felt compelled to point it out even though it was popular knowledge to those involved. Not just that, she also wanted to give Orlando the place he deserved in her family, and for that, she imagined a proper introduction, no matter how strictly unnecessary, would come handy.

There was a little bubble of anxiety inside her, as if Zowie wasn’t entirely sure how her family would react, but when her mum smiled warmly at Orlando, some of the tension eased off her shoulders. When Noemie stepped forward, however, and took him into her arms, Zowie’s eyes widened with shock as they fixed on the picture before her. Her mum had certainly come a long way, she mused when grey eyes met brown eyes and her hands took his in a strong, yet loving grip.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Orlando. Welcome back, and welcome to the family. Thank you for bringing my daughter back home.”

Was Orlando blushing? Zowie’s smile widened when she realised he had, indeed, acquired a telling rosy hue on his high cheekbones that hadn’t been there before. He smiled it off nonetheless, and the shrug he gave Noemie spoke of every bit of his sudden embarrassment at her recognition, but also of the pride he found in it.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hart.” He said, his voice soft yet firm and determined. Throwing a quick glace in Zowie’s direction, he added. “I just can’t take credit for bringing her back, though. That was her idea and hers alone. I only supported her and basically followed her here.”

Zowie’s smile threatened to split her face in two, and although she could feel Jared’s gaze fixed on her, she couldn’t tear her own eyes from the scene before her. For her mum, who had had every right to hate Orlando even though Zowie’s decisions had been her very own, to accept him so willingly, to welcome him to the family, meant the world to her. Zowie was willing to start a new life and Orlando was an integral part of it; for him to be welcome so warmly by her mother and have his efforts recognised meant lifting a weight Zowie hadn’t quite realised she had been carrying until that moment.

Noemie’s wave of her hand snapped Zowie out of her reverie.

“Mrs. Hart? I’ll have none of it! Just call me Noemie. No need to be so formal.”

Orlando smiled and nodded, and when Noemie stepped away from him, he gave Zowie a quick look and a raise of his eyebrows. The look in his eyes, albeit brief, told her how truly relieved he was.

Before he could recover, however, Jared had taken him into another of his enthusiastic hugs. This one, however, was more of a bro-hug, and had none of the swinging around Zowie had received. Just manly stuff for those two, she imagined and grinned.

“Nice to have you back, man!” Jay spoke enthusiastically as he patted Orlando in the back. “How was the flight? I hope you still like your surf and your extreme sports, because I have a few ideas in the backburner if you’re up to them.”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact I do… I just need to sleep first – the last bit of the flight before Auckland was a nightmare.”

The details of the flight occupied them as Zowie and Orlando claimed their luggage and as the four of them walked towards the door. When Zowie spotted the airport’s slogan, _Wild at Heart_ sitting on a vantage spot above her, she grinned widely and her heart fluttered, a feeling increased by the arm Orlando kept firmly around her waist and the knowledge that at least part of her family was there with her. When they stepped out of the airport’s doors, Jared turned to her and with a gleam in his blue eyes, he said.

“Welcome home, Zowie. Welcome to Wellington.”

~*~

Zowie took a deep breath and, closing her eyes, she tried to take in her surroundings with all her other senses, denying herself the first glimpses of her hometown just for a little while. She wanted to savour her surroundings, wanted to relish on every single instant, remembering, letting the place that had always been in her blood fill her once again, taking her over and welcoming her home as if nothing had ever happened. But everything had happened. Everything had changed. The Zowie that now stood at the airport doors wasn’t the same that had stood inside them years ago, eager to go and breaking everyone’s hearts in the process. Those things would never disappear, but Zowie hoped to be able to make it all better nonetheless.

But for now, she focused on what she felt, on what her hometown said to her through her senses, letting it filter inside her.

There was a soft breeze, a warm one, that enveloped her the minute she stepped out, reminding her of lazy, warm summer nights when a similar breeze would barely agitate the curtains of her bedroom, caressing her as she laid in bed. It blew the hair off of her face, and it carried a faint hint of the sea nearby and the images of countless moments from long ago where there was nothing more urgent than finding a perfect spot at the beach and check out the hot boys. Until Orlando arrived, Zowie mused with a smile. After that, the only hot boy she had ever wanted to check out on the sand was him. A car honked somewhere in the distance, in one of the parking spaces of the airport, she guessed, followed by the cry of a seagull that flew over, obviously oblivious to the risk the location posed for it. And then, from somewhere behind them, she heard someone trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to read a text in Maori. That, above everything else, told her she was back in New Zealand. Back in Wellington. She had made it, Zowie mused and grinned. It had taken her quite some time, but she was back. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Orlando with a smile.

“I’ve missed this.” She said as her eyes scanned the hills of Strathmore Park across the airport. “I just never realized actually how much… until now.”

Orlando’s lips curved in a lopsided grin and his arm pulled her close.

“Everything as you expected?”

Zowie threw a quick glance at her mum and brother before turning to Orlando once again.

“So far, so good.”

“Great. Can I convince you to take it one day at a time?”

Zowie couldn’t help the grin that played on her lips.

“You can try, but well… it’s me we’re talking about here.”

His own smile widening, Orlando leaned over to give her a soft kiss on her lips. Then, as if realising they were in front of her family, he gave Noemie a repentant look that made Zowie giggle. Orlando blushed slightly, and then, still leaning over her, he whispered softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

What Zowie saw of her hometown as Jared drove – and after teasing her with a _“Pah… she spends a few years in America and comes back all wrong”_ when she expected to find the passenger seat on the wrong side of the car according to the usual driving rules in New Zealand – was exactly as she remembered and, at the same time, it wasn’t. She could recognise most of the things she saw from the formative years she had spent there, but there were changes here and there, some more subtle than others, that managed to surprise her in different ways. The hills of Strathmore Park and Miramar, the ones she climbed to go to WETA Workshop to train with her dad and Geoff or visit Orlando at his place by the sea in Seatoun, remained the same. There were others on the other side of the airport, at her left, that made Rongotai. And then, up ahead, in the distance, there was Mount Victoria. Mount Victoria, on which side Zowie had lived her entire life. The same one she had climbed up and down countless times and suddenly, she couldn’t wait to be there; couldn’t wait to walk up and down those streets, to climb to its very summit and lose herself in the woods where once, long ago, scenes for _Rings_ had been made. Where she had played countless times as a child.

As Jared drove and Zowie absorbed as much of her surroundings as she could, Noemie asked questions about their meeting with Geoff, his new family and how he was doing. He had been a friend of the family for a long, long time, and hearing he had started a one of his own made her very happy. She wanted to know everything about Alexandra and baby James, and the instant softening in Zowie’s voice made Noemie stare at her through the rear-view mirror. The way her mum looked at her made her blush, for Zowie still wasn’t entirely sure that, no matter how heart-warming holding a baby in her arms could be, bringing one into her life after all that had happened would be wise. Orlando gave her hand a squeeze, and after giving him a thankful look, Zowie tried her best to ignore the knowing expression on Noemie’s face.

Of course there were other things she wanted to talk about, more complicated and touchy subjects such as Jewell and William, but then decided against it for the time being as her eyes settled on the blue waters of Evans Bay sparkling under the bright sun at her right. Doing so would instantly cast a dark, thick cloud upon her when all Zowie wanted was to reconnect, enjoy herself, feel as free as she possibly could while in the company of those she loved. She knew that the moment she brought such topics up, things would most likely turn ugly very, very quickly, and she didn’t want that in that minute when everything seemed as perfect as her messed up past allowed it to be.

“I’d almost forgotten how beautiful this city can be in a sunny morning.” Orlando said. “Well, how beautiful the whole country can be, actually.”

As Jared drove past a sign that indicated which turn to take depending on whether you wanted to go to Kilbirnie, Rongotai or the City Centre, Zowie could do little but agree with him. Wellington was beautiful. And as they drove, leaving the airport behind right in time to see a large aircraft approaching in the distance over the bay, Zowie was swamped by memories of that city; both good and bad. She remembered winning the football final with her school team one sunny Sunday morning. Remembered hitting the beach with her friends – Brooke, good Brooke, who would earn herself a visit from Zowie soon, for she too deserved a heartfelt apology. But she also revisited the night she took the late bus home after a walk through deserted streets after having her perfect dream shattered to pieces. Remembered tricking her father into giving her the money to leave the country, and then realised that those sad, traumatic, heart-breaking moments, had all been her doing, part of the many wrong decisions she had made that had led her to darkness. She couldn’t let them overrule the positive memories, though, and that was why she had come to New Zealand: to remember the good and reconcile with the ugly, and that process started in that very moment.

“Quite different from LA and Prescott, right?” The mischievous look Jared gave her through the rear view mirror didn’t go unnoticed to her, and Zowie shook her head with a smile.

“Are you making fun of my home choices, Jay?” She asked with an expression of mock offense in her face.

“Well, I wouldn’t make fun of Los Angeles. LA is cool. Not as cool as New York, but cool anyway.” Jared’s worship of the latter had begun after visiting the first time he had visited Zowie in Prescott. “But as for that little town? Well, maybe I am.”

“I liked Prescott.” Noemie pointed out. “It was pretty and quaint.”

“And small.” Jared’s insistence made Zowie shake her head and Orlando grin. Prescott was a lovely place and it had been great for them, but none of that could refute the fact that, when compared to a big city, some aspects of it paled.

“Hey! Don’t criticise my last home. I could always point out that you loved the hiking trails over there.”

Before Jared could answer, his quip was contained by Noemie, who seized her chance like an animal of prey.

“I take it you don’t live there anymore, then?”

For a moment, Zowie was rendered speechless by the question but, above all, by her own choice of words. _Last home_ , she had said. She loved Prescott with all her heart, but even she knew her days there were over.

“Well no, not anymore. It was great while I lived there, but all that happened made me see that I need to stop hiding and face the world. Do something else with my life. What, I don’t know exactly, but I hope to get there eventually.”

Noemie turned as best as the seat belt allowed her to and gave her eldest daughter a beaming smile.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. There are so many things you can do, so many places you can visit, you have so much to offer… all of that would go unnoticed and unused there.” Her mum’s hand gripped Zowie’s, and she smiled shakily, fighting the sudden tears Noemie’s words had brought to her eyes. “Have you considered where you are going to live now that you’re not going back to Arizona?”

For a moment, Zowie was blank. She didn’t have an answer. But then her other hand received a soft yet determined squeeze that earned her attention. Her eyes, still a bit teary, stared up at Orlando, who in turn regarded her with a warm, loving smile.

“Well, she’s always welcome to stay with me wherever I am. I’d be more than happy to have her.”

They had never talked about this. When they were in Prescott and he moved in with her, it was due to the media interest in her. In Los Angeles, they had been guests at Elijah’s. Now, even though she still felt Wellington as her hometown and the home they were heading to as her own, Zowie realised that she could build a new one, her own one, anywhere in the world. What she couldn’t do without, however, was that man who stared at her with those brown eyes that bewitched her just as much as they had seven years ago when she still wore her school uniform.

“Even if I’m one of those really annoying guests that just refuse to go away no matter what?” , Zowie asked, her blue eyes fixed on him, her heart galloping wildly.

Orlando’s smile was slow, but wide and full of happiness.

“Feel free to stay as long as you want. I’m afraid I’d be very offended if you left.”

Moved to her very core and with her heart full of happiness and hope, Zowie leaned in to steal a kiss from a willing Orlando until her brother’s exclamation interrupted them.

“Ew, guys! You two are so sickeningly sweet it’s disgusting. I have the sudden urge of brushing my teeth now.”

Zowie’s half scolding, half knowing look met Jared’s blue eyes on the rear view mirror and he winked at her.

“As if you didn’t get _disgustingly sweet_ ,” She said, forming quotation marks with her fingers and giving her brother a knowing look complete with arched eyebrows and all, “with girls on your own. Which reminds me… nothing you want to share with your big sister in that regard?”

There was an expression of such innocence in Jay’s face that Zowie couldn’t help but believe there were, indeed, quite a few things to be shared.

“Absolutely nothing. I proudly fly the flag of bachelorhood, unlike others.”

“You know, sometimes,” Orlando said with a smile, “bachelorhood is overrated.”

Jared snorted, never taking his eyes from Cobham Drive ahead as his features took on a decidedly smug air.

“Ouch, man… you’re a disgrace to the genre!”

Orlando laughed softly and Zowie shook her head with a smile. Looking at her brother, the man he had become, she had no doubts he proudly flew the flag, as he put it. But she knew him, knew he was a great guy, and was also sure that one day, sooner or later, he would find a girl that would make him want to toss the flag of bachelorhood to the nearest trashcan as he too became a “disgrace” to the genre.

“Zowie, do you remember when you used to go sailing in Brooke’s dad’s boat?”

At Noemie’s words, Zowie looked at her right, at the piers where countless sailboats were docked. Did she remember? There was no way she could ever forget about it. She used to love sailing with Brooke and her family, but there was one particular time Zowie remembered now, above all others. It was right after the whole _Rings_ business started. The two girls were about to graduate from St. Mary’s and that famous cast party with the mini skirt fiasco that had almost given her dad a heart attack had just taken place. The world lay ahead of them and they had the best, greatest plans for the future. They were as close as sisters and there were no secrets between them. That was before Zowie began to keep things from Brooke, before she kicked her out of her life in one of her most selfish moments. Inwardly, Zowie shook her head. She would have to track her once best friend, because she too deserved a heartfelt apology for what she had put her through.

“Yes, mum. I do.”

Orlando must have sensed something, for he swiftly moved the topic to one less controversial and painful for Zowie.

“Hey, Jay! Isn’t this is your old school?”

Looking at his left at the large group of buildings located right in front of the sea, Jay nodded.

“Oh, yes. The good, old Saint Patrick’s College.” Jared said, a wistful hint in his voice. “Hardly believable that I’m now an old boy. An _old_ boy. Can you believe that?”

Before Jared could continue his pity party at being an _old boy_ at the young age of 23, Zowie straightened up in her seat as she noticed something at the other side of Cobham Drive that she had never seen before. It seemed like a huge orange needle that pointed skywards. Back in the day, there used to be nothing there and she remembered that quite well, for that was the place where she had collapsed the morning after taking her first pill, after that desperate jog that she hoped would erase the drug from her system and her memory.

“What’s that? I don’t remember that being there.” She pointed out as she looked at the contraption as they drove past.

“Oh, that is the Zephyrometer.” Noemie explained. “It’s a wind needle. You don’t see it in action now because there is barely any breeze, but on windy days… the poor thing moves like crazy.”

The memories of her collapsing, sobbing and fighting for her breath right in that spot interspersed with the sight outside the car window.

“How long has it been there?”

“Four years, I think. Right, Jared?” Noemie turned to her only son for approval, and he nodded.

No wonder she didn’t remember it, Zowie mused as a sudden heaviness fell on her heart. It wasn’t going to be easy, being faced with all the memories of her past and the recriminations that would surely follow. Not everything would be as peaceful and nearly as perfect as that moment in the car was. There was bound to be reclamations, harsh words, and a lot of apologizing to do on her part. But that was the reason she had come back, wasn’t it? To close the circle. To right the wrongs. And no one, no one, had ever said it would be easy.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 24.**

_“It’s like we never left_

_Time in between was just a dream_

_Did we leave this place?”_

**Live – The Dolphin’s Cry**

 

The road sign, in all its green glory, read in white bold letters: _City Centre – Porirua._

And _Hataitai._

Saint Patrick’s grounds and the Zephyrometre had been left behind, but the memories they had brought still lingered. The level ground was about to end, and they were about to start the climb that would take her to that place she had called home for so many years. Although the uneasiness remained, the sight of the name of Hataitai did something to Zowie: it filled her with longing once again. Emotions warred inside her, demanding every ounce of her attention until a warm arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her to a strong and reliable body she knew as much as her own. Only then did Zowie manage to focus her until then unseeing eyes, and she did it when they settled on Orlando and his concerned gaze. He knew what she was feeling, and was there to show her that he would always be there, every step of the way. For that, Zowie loved him even more so than ever before, something she had never thought possible. This man was willing to face a load of trouble he could easily do without just for her, to support her. There was no need for him to put himself on the line that way and he did nonetheless. She had brought so much trouble to his life and still Orlando loved her no matter what. After all that had happened, Zowie realised that only now did she truly and completely grasp what that meant. Orlando loved her and he was there for the long haul. He was her support, and boy was she going to need him in the near future.

With a voice so low she wasn’t sure even Orlando had heard her, Zowie whispered the words that filled her heart.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Orlando answered just as softly. “Be strong, okay? I know you can do this.”

Zowie nodded as she stared up at him, hoping her eyes, now clear after so, so long, could convey and express the things that Zowie herself couldn’t voice through the lump that knotted her throat tightly enough to barely allow her to breathe. Being back to the place where everything had begun, and doing so with him, was proving to be a very powerful and moving experience; positive as well with insofar. Her hand went to his thigh and gave it a squeeze, keeping it there as she moulded against her body as best as she could with the seat belt on. And when Orlando looked down at her, a smile tickling the corners of his lips, Zowie knew the feelings she saw in his eyes, the love, the concern, the utter devotion, were the same ones that glowed in her wide eyes as she looked at him.

They didn’t pull away. Not when the climb of the road took the car into the midst of the greenery that made Mount Victoria, traversed by Alexandra Road. Not as they recalled the scenes Elijah and the other actors portraying Hobbits for the movies had shot in the area near the beginning of the production as their characters fled from the Nazgul, the evil creatures of Sauron. Neither did they do it when she remembered, and shared with them, Lij’s uneasiness at his little accident involving natural bodily functions that had embarrassed him to death and that had even made it to the DVD editions of the movies, which mortified him. Not as the road took them to the summit of Mount Vic and neither as Jared took the car down in a slow descent.

Alexandra Road wasn’t just any road in Wellington Zowie knew very little or very much. Alexandra Road was _her_ road, the one she had lived in for as long as she could remember. And those hiking trails she could see here and there, emerging towards the road before losing themselves in the woods? She knew them all. She had _walked_ through them all at one point or another of her life. But even as memories flooded her, as they overwhelmed her, Zowie didn’t let go of Orlando, for no matter how independent she had grown in the past years she had spent alone, she was also mature enough to understand and accept that, in that very moment, she needed his strength greatly.

As the road descended and sights of Evans Bay appeared before her eyes, Zowie’s heart rate increased to a wild thumping. The white sign with green lettering at her right read _Upoko Road_ and _Alexandra Road_ , the latter repeated twice in two different signs, as the road curved to follow the natural lines of the Mount Vic, and its sight, along with the one belonging to the bus stop right next to it made her breath get caught in her throat. She knew what would appear as soon as Jared went around the corner, and when he did, her eyes were probably the first in the car to settle on it.

It looked just the same as Zowie remembered it. Perched on the side of Mount Victoria, a few meters above the street to make the best out of the steep grounds, the house that lied there hadn’t changed one bit. Or what she could see of it, of course, for it wasn’t very discernable behind the abundance of plants her mum had planted here and there. Late summer as it was, the leaves were still green and abundant, but there was no mistaking as to what lied behind the greenery.

Her house. Her childhood home.

She couldn’t say a thing as Jared parked the car and the four of them stepped out or as they climbed the steps that led them to the front door. Conscious of the strong, unwavering presence by her side that said nothing but that seemed to be aware and in tune to the clash of emotions inside her, Zowie took one step after the other until her mum, key firm on the lock and with a wide smile on her lips, turned to her and said.

“Welcome home, dear.”

For a long, seemingly endless instant, Zowie felt as if her feet were glued to the cement beneath her. Something in her wanted to take a step forward, the one that would bring her through the threshold and into a world that was at the same time so familiar and so unknown, but a part of her simply urged her to spin on her heels and run. Run away. Run as fast as she could and leave everything behind. But she couldn’t. She _wouldn’t._ Not when she had worked so hard to get to this point. Taking that first step forward was anything but easy, but when she did and she crossed the threshold, Zowie could feel that she had, indeed, come back home.

Nothing had changed much. A slight change in the colouring and the décor here and there to go with the times and not be left behind, but she feeling she got upon setting a foot in the now carpeted floor of the foyer with its light caramel plushness, was exactly the same from all those years ago. Safe, protected, loved… Zowie remembered very well feeling all those things as she grew up within those walls. Where she had grown up happy and certain of herself and her place in the world. Where Zowie had confronted William with a truth that had altered her life and that had tilted her world off its axis, sending it rolling downhill. Where she had dreamed and cried for Orlando. Where Brooke and her had had their final fallout. But it was also the place her parents had brought to her after she was born, where she had got up to endless mischief with her siblings. Most of her life had happened in that place, and she couldn’t ignore it. But as she stood there, silent and drawing the attention of those with her, there was a feeling of peace that slowly made its way inside her.

Zowie had certainly hoped to feel good about this, but it wasn’t until she stood there, a door at her left leading to a very familiar room, that she realised that, despite all her fears, she had made the right decision. She would never forget the bad things that had happened there – neither did she want to, for they had made her the person she was that day – but she didn’t need to focus solely in them, as she had done in the darkest days of her life. She could draw strength from those joyful memories the house held and carry on from there, hoping to cement a path that would lead her in the right direction.

Coming to that determination seemed to once again connect Zowie to the world around her and to those that anxiously waited for a sign from her. Any sign. So with a tiny smile on her lips, she eyed her mother’s eager and slightly nervous face before speaking.

“You have done a really nice job here, mum. Pictures don’t do it justice.”

The feeling of the tension leaving the small foyer where four adults stood was almost tangible, and Zowie could barely hold back her laughter. It was as if Jared, Orlando and Noemie had suddenly deflated, all anticipation and nervousness leaving them so suddenly, they visibly hunched after being tense for so long. Poor them, Zowie mused, and her heart ached at their unaware reaction. She had done this to them, this uncertainty, and she vowed herself to work hard to erase that feeling from their hearts.

Her mum, quickly recovering, all anxiety and eagerness swiftly gone from her face, practically glowed as she smiled at her daughter.

“You like it? Just wait until you see what I’ve done upstairs.”

And that was it. Jared ushered them upstairs as soon as they hinted they could take care of their luggage themselves, whispering all too loudly in Zowie’s ear that Noemie needed a girl to gush over her colour palette, since he was pretty useless at it and couldn’t care less whether the entire house was painted red, white or taupe.

“What the hell is _taupe_ , anyway? Why do women always find new and complicated names to colours that have existed a long time with good and decent denominations?” He exclaimed, aggravated. Then, eyeing at Orlando, he decided to make him part of his mock indignation. “Do _you_ know what kind of colour taupe is, Orlando?”

“Umm… no?” He answered, visibly lost.

“See?” Victorious since his male point of view had been supported by another representative of the species, he gave Zowie a meaningful look. “Now go upstairs and compliment her colour palette. She didn’t quite seem to believe I was honest when I did it myself. In the meantime, I will take care of you guys’ luggage.”

A proof to how truly happy Noemie was, was the fact that she only laughed at her son’s comments, instead of telling him off. Jared and Zowie exchanged a knowing glance and he winked at her and nodded towards the stairs. She winked back and then turned to Orlando, who stared at her with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything okay.” Zowie’s answer was swift and doubtless, for she didn’t need to think about it at all. Whatever came afterwards would be dealt with later, but for now, for she intended to bask in the feelings her childhood home offered her. They all had changed, yes, but the love in her mum’s eyes as she glanced at her over the shoulder from the stairs had remained the same. So slipping her hand in Orlando’s, they took the steps at the same time, ready to face this new phase in her life.

~*~

It was later that day, long after the sun had gone down and dinner was over with that, spite the tiredness she could feel seeping into her very bones, Zowie sat with her mum at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee. Orlando had excused himself some time ago, the excitement of the day and the exhaustion of the long flight finally catching up with him. Zowie hadn’t had to try too hard to detect the signs of exhaustion in him, for they were there for the world to see; when he couldn’t keep his eyes open for another second, she had walked him to her old room.

The feelings she got upon entering that room nearly overwhelmed her. Everything looked exactly the same: the red walls, the window overlooking the bay, her desk, her old books… everything was there. Even the stuffed bear Orlando had given her after the football final to make things up with her still sat there, comfortable in the bed. They both smiled at the memory, shaking their heads and reminiscing that moment. Nevertheless, while the bear still sat on the bed, said bed wasn’t exactly the one Zowie had slept on until she was eighteen. Soon, she had put two and two together and realised that the two beds her room used to hold had been pushed together and a new, bigger mattress had been put in place to hold not just her, but Orlando as well. The furious blush in her face had matched Orlando’s, as well as the fuchsia hue of the duvet that replaced the smaller two of the same colour that used to be there, trying to keep in tune with the _old years_ look of the room. So after sharing an embarrassed and uncomfortable giggle and a kiss, she left him to prepare for bed, promising to join him soon; a comment that got them blushing and feeling all uncomfortable all over again. She now shook her head almost imperceptibly, a small smile on her lips, wondering if there was ever a moment in a person’s life when the acknowledgment of a parent of one’s sexual life didn’t mean a traumatic embarrassment anymore. She knew her mum meant well; she just couldn’t help but wonder if Orlando would ever touch her knowing her mum was upstairs, no matter how much said mother facilitated things for them.

“You sure you don’t want to go to bed? I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Zowie looked up from her mug and shook her head at her mum.

“No, I’m okay. My body clock is totally and absolutely screwed up and doesn’t quite know whether to obey to the Wellington time zone or the LA one, but I will manage. I still have a little bit of energy left.”

Noemie smiled, and Zowie realised that was a gesture that had yet to leave her mum’s face. It had been there for most of the day, but she liked it that way. She liked making her mum happy after so long, but was also very aware that her happiness also had to be accounted for. So far, however, it was. When a warm hand squeezed her own, her own smile widened.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Zowie… so glad!” The earnest look on Noemie’s face mirrored the joy in her tone. “I know I have said it a million times today, but I spent so long thinking how it would feel to have you here once again, that now it seems like a dream come true.”

Zowie smiled widely.

“Thanks, mum. For everything.”

Noemie didn’t need her daughter to elaborate any further on her comment; she knew exactly what she referred to. They chatted amiably for a while about family members that wanted to see her as soon as possible and the possibility of visiting them or having them over, whichever Zowie preferred, until the topic died down and a thought hung heavy on her shoulders. She dreaded it, but knew it had to be addressed sooner or later. Hopefully, the former rather than the latter.

“How’s Jewell, mum? And please, don’t lie to me. Be honest. If I’m ever going to see her again and try to make things up with her, then I need to know exactly what I’m up against.”

The long, heavy sigh Noemie exhaled told Zowie more than she had expected, and she could feel how a lump of ice formed in her belly as the truth sank in. She had never truly expected anything different, always trying to silence the voice that spoke of hope, of a new beginning with her sister to avoid building her hopes too high. That voice, however, seemed to have never given up until now, when faced with the reality it had overlooked.

“That bad, uh?” Zowie drew in a shaky breath, and her eyes briefly went back to her mug, where they met her reflection in the dark brew.

The dull glow in Noemie’s eyes spoke volumes when she finally looked up at Zowie. All the joy from before had vanished, replaced by the heavy burden of what transpired between her two daughters.

“She… well, there is no nice way to put it. She’s beyond mad at you, Zowie. Jules is _furious_.” The emphasis in that last word and the weight it carried for the two of them hung heavily on Zowie’s heart. Jules might be her sister and Zowie might as well carry on living without one, despite how painful it could be and the regret she would always feel but, what about Noemie? They were her daughters. She loved them equally, and having them torn apart in such a seemingly definitive way must be destroying her inside. “Over the years I have tried to talk some sense into her, have her see how things were for you and why you did what you did, but it was no use.”

Zowie snorted lightly, her eyes lost in the darkness outside the kitchen’s French windows. That didn’t surprise her in the least. Had it been her in Jewell’s position, furious and having to listen to a mother that tried to justify what Jules had done wrong that had hurt them all, well… she would have done the same thing.

Noemie continued.

“And then, when I told her you were coming and that it would be a good chance for you two to patch things up, she was very direct when telling me that she didn’t give a damn whether the prodigal daughter was finally coming back home. And that, should I ever even consider the idea of setting her up or tricking her into meeting you, she would stop talking to me altogether. She doesn’t want to see you, talk to you, or have others talking to her about you. It has been that way since she first got mad at you, but now… now I’m afraid she has reached a new limit. Her all-time high.”

Once again, Zowie looked into her mug, as if searching for answers in the coffee that oscillated there, moved by the slight trembling of her hands. The cold that numbed her stomach might have been battled, if only a little, by the hot brew, but she had the nagging feeling that, instead of bringing it any warmth, the drink would only end up upsetting it. Nevertheless, she didn’t let go of the mug, using it to warm her hands and, hopefully, conceal their trembling from Noemie.

“Did you expect anything else, though?” She asked, raising her eyes to meet her mum’s grey, troubled gaze. “I deserted her. I deserted you all, in fact. I left and never looked back. Not once did I take into consideration what my immaturity might do to others, focusing solely on what _I_ wanted. The least Jewell can do is be furious at me. And I can’t blame her. I can only understand her. Had it been me in her shoes, do you honestly think I would feel any different now?”

For the briefest of instants, a tiny whisper of a smile crossed Noemie’s lips, a clear sign that she knew her oldest child’s temper.

“No, I don’t think you would.” The smile fled from her lips as she returned her gaze. “Not that it makes me feel any better, though.”

“God, mum… I’m so, so sorry.” Knowing the increasing trembling in her hands wouldn’t go unnoticed but not caring about it anymore, Zowie’s hands left the mug behind and clung to her mum’s own hands, her gaze intent on hers. “This is all my fault! Hadn’t I done what I did, then-“

“I too am to blame.” Noemie interrupted her. “Don’t you think I regret having ignored the signs when she first refused to talk about you? I should have paid more attention, I should have…” Her voice caught in her throat, and Noemie drew a deep, shuddering breath to control herself. Zowie’s heart lurched. She would see Jewell, would try to have a conversation with her. She had no chances of succeeding, but even if she held no hopes of patching things up with her sister, she would do everything she could to save her mum this horrible heartache.

The two women spent the next few minutes in a contemplative silence, cloaked in the quiet darkness of the Hataitai night, only broken by the occasional roar of a car passing by in the street below. Zowie glanced over her shoulder, across the kitchen and out the window overlooking the bay. Lights blinked here and there, and if she looked closely, she was sure she would see the bright lights of a car driving past. But in that instant, she wasn’t that focused. She was mulling over the information Noemie had just given her and her own part in it, as well as another subject that urged to be addressed to. And if talking about Jewell had brought a dark cloud upon their previous happiness, broaching the next topic would most likely turn it into a raging storm.

Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Zowie tore her eyes from the bay and brought them, once again, back to the woman sitting there with her.

“Mum… have you heard from Dad?”

In her benefit, Noemie looked anything but surprised at the question. It was as if she had been expecting it, probably even more so than the ones regarding Jewell, if the resigned expression in her eyes and the soft shaking of her head were anything to go by.

“I haven’t talked to your dad in a long, long time, honey. I know it has been a while since everything happened, but, well… time doesn’t make things any different nor heals all the wounds. As far as I know, however, Jared did tell him you were coming. That’s what he told me, anyway. Whatever William said about it, though, I don’t know.”

Her mum was right about something: time didn’t heal all the wounds.

Noemie had moved on, had carried on with her life, but the weight of William’s betrayal was much too heavy to dispel it entirely; at least, not yet. Zowie wished her mum would one day be able to look at what had happened and leave all the hurt and pain behind, but she imagined it wasn’t going to be that easy. What her dad had done to them all, but mostly to Noemie, was nearly unforgivable.

“You never talked to him again?” She asked, and it was Noemie’s turn to look into the dark brew in her own mug.

“Of course I have. I mean, there were matters that needed us to be civil to each other about, matters mostly regarding our children. But beyond that… no, not really.” Noemie finished her explanation with a sigh. It took her a while to lift her gaze, but when she did, Zowie felt the full force of her grey eyes staring straight at her. “What do you plan to do?”

Zowie wished she could pledge ignorance, but that was not to be. Not when she had brought the topic up herself.

“I don’t know. I mean, there’s a reason why I came here in the first place, and that’s not only to reconnect with the family I left behind. I want to patch things up with Jewell because I screwed them up myself, but when it comes to Dad… I wish things were that easy. I know I was horrible to him while I still was here and I regret what I did, but I was so mad! And in some ways, I still am.” Even as she spoke, Zowie could feel some of the old anger resurfacing, and she fought hard to keep it under control. However, the way she had found out the truth, the lies William had told them all, how willing he was to go to any extent to keep her happy and get in her good sides again… she had come to terms with her past, but that didn’t mean some things didn’t bother her still. “I wanted to at least talk to him, but I don’t know… I don’t know what will happen if I do. I don’t know what I will _do_ if we’re face to face.”

And that was, above all, her biggest fear. She didn’t fear facing her father; at least, not the process per se. She didn’t fear becoming violent, simple because that wasn’t her. If she got angry and told her father one or two ugly things, that might not be her initial goal, but she would deal with it later. What Zowie didn’t know how to deal with later, or now, was not having the complete control over the moment when it finally happened. Because while she didn’t fear her reactions, Zowie did fear for her emotions. Because deep down inside, Zowie dreaded not being strong. She dreaded being weak when the time came, and instead of being civil to her father or even angry at him, she feared giving in to the feelings she had kept hidden inside for so long. And William didn’t deserve it, not after what he had done to them.

When Noemie’s arms slipped around her, enveloping her in their warmth, reassurance and love, Zowie was taken by surprise. She relished in it, nonetheless, for she knew there was a kindred spirit in her mother’s soul. Both had been deceived and had yet to forgive. She wondered if Noemie had ever felt the same: this nearly irresistible urge of lashing at William with all the might of her anger and her broken heart, followed by the fear of collapsing under the weight and strength of the love she surely still felt for him.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Zowie. I learned that a long time ago.” There was a small smile on her mum’s lips when Zowie’s gaze met hers, one that spoke of the process of growth both women had gone through. “But I can support you, and I will. Whatever you decide, I’ll back you up a hundred per cent. But I do think you should talk to your dad. Whatever the outcome, whatever you decide after that, you deserve talking to him and put that at ease in your mind. Go and scream at him if you want to, cry if you feel like it, but whatever you do, don’t let all of that rot inside you. You have come a long way, dear, too long to let this weigh you down. _I_ won’t let that happen. If it does and I have to go and kick your Dad’s butt myself, I will. Don’t doubt it for a second.”

Moved nearly to tears, Zowie could only stare at her mum, full of love and appreciation for that woman. There would always be that uneasy feeling of everything she had put her through, but slowly, with time and, above all, love, she felt she could begin leaving all that behind. There were no further words spoken between them, but the hug they shared… it needed none.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 25.**

“You sure you don’t want to at least take a taxi? And honestly, it’s no trouble for me driving you there, you know. If it’s necessary, I could wait for you somewhere and…”

“Orlando, it’s just the _bus_. The same bus I took for the first eighteen years of my life. I’m pretty sure they still have the same routes, and even if they don’t, I think I still know my way around the city. I won’t get lost or anything, trust me.”

Even as she went on with her tirade, Zowie stared at Orlando with a half smile on her lips. What he was trying to do… it was obvious, and it both warmed her heart and made it swell with love until she felt she could barely contain it inside her. Orlando tried his best to be there for her, to be by her side as she embarked on the tasks she had vowed to face before the circle was closed and she could live her life wholly and peacefully once again. Knowing he was there and being a witness to the constant proofs of his love and attention… it made her weak at the knees every single time. She wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and shower him with kisses and words of love, but at the same time, Zowie knew this was something she needed to do on her own. And of all the wrongs she had to right while in Wellington, Brooke was only the first of them.

Taking his handsome face between her palms, Zowie tilted her face upwards to stare at Orlando and the obvious concern glowing in his eyes.

“I can see what you’re trying to do, you know?” She said before her hands skimmed down his chest and belly before finding their way around his slim waist, pulling his body close to hers. “And I love you for it, more than you can imagine, but I have to do this on my own. I wish I knew how this whole thing will turn out, whether Brooke will want to see my at all in the first place, but… I have to do it anyway.” Taking a deep breath, she then let out a sigh. “It’s the first step, you know? Anyone would think I’m taking the easy way out here in choosing Brooke instead of Jewell, but I don’t think so.” The tiny grin that had appeared on her lips at that comment vanished much too quickly. Still, her eyes glowed with love as she met his once again. “And yes, I’m nervous as hell, but I still feel I have to do this on my own. So thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I think I love you more with every passing day, Orlando.” Zowie whispered fervently. “In times like this, I wonder what would have been of me hadn’t you showed up in Prescott.”

“You’d still have found a way around to do this anyway.” Orlando said as his hands wandered up and down the length of her back. “You’re strong, much stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for. You only needed to believe it yourself, and you already have, even if you don’t see it. Right now, Zow, I’m just a mere spectator, and although I understand it and I even like it that way when it means you’re doing what your heart asks you to, it doesn’t necessarily mean I am a hundred per cent okay with it at other times.” Looking earnestly into her blue eyes, his hands managed to bring her even closer. “Still, I’ll do my best not to be the overbearing protective boyfriend my own heart is begging me to be, and I’ll sit here twiddling my thumbs or helping your mum with party plans for her job.”

The mental pictures the sole idea brought to Zowie’s mind made her giggle. It wasn’t unusual of her mum to try and drag Zowie, and Orlando himself on occasion, in her brainstorming sessions whenever she felt she needed a fresh perspective on things. There had been times when Zowie had been able to come up with one or two somewhat useful ideas, but Orlando? He still had a hard time comprehending why on Earth Noemie included him at all.

“So go on… leave now before I regret it.” He said in the end, reluctance colouring his every feature. “There are some things I need to do myself, and my agent might not hand in her resignation or go mental if I contact her before the week ends.”

Oh, yes. The poor woman was most likely traumatised after the way Zowie and Orlando had left the States on such short notice and without that much of a warning.

“I promise I’ll give you a call, okay? Whatever happens, I’ll let you know as soon as I get the chance. Just… wish me luck. I think I’ll need it.”

Once again Orlando pulled Zowie into his arms, hugging her tight and speaking with every muscle, every fibre of his body of his wish of not letting her go, but also of his determination of comforting her after the sudden outburst of insecurity he had detected in her soft voice.

“Brooke will understand, love. You two were friends for such a long time, and a lot has happened in your lives in the past few years. If nothing else, I’m sure you two can sit down and share a cup of coffee like two civilised adults, right?” Giving her waist a soft squeeze, Orlando carried on. “She’ll understand, Zowie. She loved you once, you both did. And even though she did leave, it was because she loved you too much and surely hoped not having her around would make you see things right.”

“Which I stubbornly refused to do, of course. Hart through and through, baby.” Zowie retorted with a small grimace and a shake of her head. “Let’s hope Brooke is more reasonable than me. She always was, though. Did I ever mention how many times she tried to make me see sense and I never ever listened to her? She was always much wiser than I ever was.”

“Let’s count on that, then. If Brooke still is as reasonable as you say, then she won’t deny you the chance of having if, nothing else, a cup of coffee and a bit of a chat.”

Grinning with a hint of sadness, Zowie once again shook her head.

“Dear Lord, I wished it was nothing but a _bit of a chat_.” She murmured, her every feeling regarding this situation coming through to the surface in the heaviness of her voice.

Orlando might not be entirely happy with letting her go on with this on her own, but he wasn’t, obviously, going to let her back down either now that she had made up her mind.

“You go there and give it a try. If Brooke wants it, if she feels like it, then she will give you an opening. If she doesn’t, well… at least you tried. But you’ll never know the outcome of this for sure if you don’t go and meet her, you hear me?”

Oh, hear him she did. Not that hearing him didn’t necessarily mean that Brooke wouldn’t turn her back on her the minute she saw the ghost of Christmas past entering her life after so long, though.

The goodbyes were long; it was obvious that Orlando didn’t want to let go of her anytime soon, and that Zowie’s reluctance, palpable in every way as she clung to him rather desperately, kept her right in his arms. It was her who finally took a resolute step back and, taking a denim jacket from the back of the chair to fight off the chill of that March early afternoon, Zowie gave her boyfriend one last kiss and set out to walk the short distance that separated her from the bus stop that would take her to her final destination: the Circa Theatre.

Life had been different for both friends, Zowie mused as she walked down the stairs that led from the front door of her childhood home to the street below. While she had struggled for years, Brooke’s life had gone in a completely different direction. Of course, whatever struggle Zowie had gone through had been her fault and her fault alone, regardless of what other people near her might have done. But while she had fumbled along life for a number of years, her impulsiveness and vulnerability getting the best of her, Brooke obviously hadn’t.

Her friend’s dream had always been clear: Brooke wanted to act. She was involved in every play during their school years, and had also participated in several drama groups for teenagers since Zowie had met her. While Zowie herself had been all boundless energy needing a physical outlet, Brooke had been a tranquil presence, always thinking before acting. What a stark contrast they had always been at that! Zowie had always rushed headlong into everything she did: football, sword fighting; whatever it was, she gave it her all. Brooke too gave her all, but always after giving it a close consideration.

But they had clicked. From the very beginning. And they had been inseparable, for despite the differences in their personalities, they had always complemented each other, and those years spent with Brooke as her best friend, sharing everything that happened in her life? They had been some of the best in Zowie’s life. What was there to worry about, besides the next assignment for school, or whether their ultimate crush, Daniel Johns from Silverchair, had a girlfriend or not?

But things had changed, mostly because Zowie herself had forced them to. From the very beginning, Brooke had advised her to be calm and think things through as far as Orlando was concerned, something that had taken Zowie years to achieve. And when Brooke left, it was solely because Zowie pushed her away, refusing to acknowledge her worry and concern and being truly, truly horrible to the one person who had known everything. Now she was set to make things right; she just hoped Brooke would give her the chance.

What if she didn’t want to see her again? Life had taken Brooke in the direction she had always wanted; most likely, there was no need in her to sit down with a friend from school and listen to her apologies, not when she was busy making her dream come true. For it was by seeing her old friend’s name on a billboard downtown that Zowie had found out Brooke had achieved her goal of becoming an actress.

Zowie, Orlando and Jared had been driving home after a visit to Dry Creek Quarry, the site where the Battle of Helms Deep had been shot all those years ago, when right next to the Te Papa National Museum a theatre had come to sight, with billboards for all the plays staged there. Zowie hadn’t been paying special attention to them since she hadn’t been looking for anything in particular, but something must have caught her eye, for she suddenly became aware of what was right in front of her.

“Stop!” She had cried out and, shocked out of his mind by his sister’s sudden exclamation, Jared had nearly crashed with the car right before his.

“What, what? What’s going on?” Scared too, Orlando had turned in the front seat, looking at her with obvious concern in his eyes; a concern that Zowie didn’t quite recognise, for she was too busy unbuckling her seatbelt and shooting directions at her brother.

“Park the car, Jay! I need to get down _now_!”

“What the hell is going on, Zowie? Is something wrong?” Obviously obfuscated but fortunate nonetheless, Jared found a parking spot available right across the street from the theatre, leaving Zowie to exit the car and quickly cross the street, promptly followed by the two men who shot question after question in her direction.

“What is it? Are you alright?”

“Zowie, love… what’s going on?”

Their concern had floated to her, but hadn’t managed to touch her. Not quite. For right before her bewildered eyes there was a picture of a very familiar face with light blond hair and blue eyes staring right at her, surrounded by other people Zowie didn’t even truly notice. _“The Lie”_ read the billboard in big, bold black letters. And then, right above it and just a little to the right, denoting the importance of her role in it, the name _Brooke Keirle_ presented such a stark contrast with the white background that it made it impossible to miss.

Orlando reached her first, his hands going instantly to her shoulders as he stood in front of her, trying to read in her surely shocked face what was going on.

“Zowie?”

It was only the sheer worry in his voice what drew her out of her trancelike state. Her blue eyes going from the brown ones she loved to that blue pair that mirrored hers, Zowie pointed the billboard and nodded.

“She made it.”

Her words didn’t make any sense to the men until they followed the direction she instructed, and it took them more than a few seconds to understand what was truly going on. It was Orlando who first recognised the girl on the billboard, mostly by relating the somewhat familiar face to the name printed above her.

“Brooke? Your friend Brooke?”

Zowie had nodded. She might have very well still been in shock at the sight that had come across her so unexpectedly, but that didn’t manage to stop the sudden realisation that fell on her shoulders like the heaviest load. And how could that be, when standing there meant Zowie was faced with the harsh reality that, while her friend had spent the past years of her life fighting to achieve her dreams, Zowie herself had spent them doing whatever she could to regain control her life and put it back together? It was no small feat, by no means whatsoever, but that didn’t mean she felt any less self-conscious or ashamed about it.

“Wait… that’s Brooke? _The_ Brooke that once set me up with the ugliest girl in your school?” Jared’s shock was blatantly obvious, but it wasn’t his comment, coloured with surprise as it was, what dragged Zowie away from her reverie. It was the one that followed up. “No way! Damn, she’s grown up nice!”

The appreciative yet slightly leery hint in Jared’s voice succeeded on bringing Zowie back to reality. But while Jared took a step forward and studied the billboard with a rather interested look on his face, God knew what kind of thoughts going through his head, Orlando ignored it altogether, instead focusing intently on Zowie, observing with great care every reaction and emotion play on her face as she too analysed the billboard.

“Zow, please… are you alright?”

How could she ignore that sweet, concerned tone that reached her heart? She couldn’t. And by tearing her nearly obsessed gaze from the billboard and focusing it on him, Zowie came to terms with the feelings that had put her at odds for some brief, yet painful seconds. Brooke’s dream in the past years had been to become a successful actress. Zowie’s had been being successful at recovering her life. For herself. For others too, yes, but mostly for herself. And this moment she shared with this man right there and then? It made it all worth it.

Zowie smiled at him and, with a soft nod, she took his hand and gave it a hearty squeeze. The gesture managed to ease some of Orlando’s worries, and Zowie might not have thought much more of it, at least not instantly as they turned their backs on the theatre and walked slowly back to Jared’s car, hadn’t her brother popped the question that had started it all.

“Hey, Zowie… plan to see Brooke again anytime soon?”

And as seemingly unimportant – and more particularly, so blatantly far from altruistic – as those words were, they had sparked something in Zowie’s mind. Something that now had her walking downhill on Upoko Road, heading south to the number 2 bus stop to the Te Aro district. Something that had her following a possibility that might or might not become something remotely feasible.

What certainty did Zowie have that Brooke would want to receive her, after all? That she would have any desire to see her, let alone have any sort of conversation with her? Nevertheless, what Jared had so absently said, hoping to earn some sort of benefit out of it, had spurred a decision in Zowie. Hadn’t she come to Wellington to close the circle she had let gaping open years ago? Well, she had to start somewhere, hadn’t she? Her mum had already forgiven her, and so had Jared and Orlando, but if Zowie had to honest with herself, they were pretty much a given. Orlando had gone after her, willing to close his own unfinished business. Jared had always been willing to give her every chance she needed, and as for her mother… regardless of whatever she did, her mother would always have her arms wide open to receive her once again in her tight and loving embrace. Brooke, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. But if she truly meant to make the most out of this trip to New Zealand, of this beginning of a new life, then a visit to Brooke _had_ to take place at one time or another. Zowie had no idea where her former best fried lived now and really didn’t feel her parents should be involved in this, so the theatre and its billboard had offered her the best possible choice out of the ones available for her.

She looked up as she walked, squinting at the bright sun that graced that beautiful March day and absorbing as much of its brightness as she could to dispel the darkness that, despite her best intentions, sometimes managed to creep its way back to her heart. It was hard fighting against it, but Zowie gave it no quarter. What was the use, after all, on dwelling on the possible outcomes one more time, when she had already gone through them all a million times since coming up with the idea a few days ago? Especially when the outcomes of it were so simple.

On one hand, Brooke could always welcome her, for their old friendship’s sake, and save Zowie a great deal of trouble and pain. It would be great, but almost too perfect to believe. On the other hand, she could be rejected too, which wouldn’t be entirely surprising, given the way they had parted so many years ago, but that would cause her great heartache. There was, however, another option, one that haunted Zowie far more than the other two: Brooke could ignore her completely, and carry on with her life as if all the years together had never taken place, an idea that tore Zowie’s heart to pieces. She could deal with anger, for it was expected; would be obviously delighted if Brooke opened her arms to her as if nothing had ever happened. But if Brooke turned her back on her, not giving her a chance to explain herself? Good God, that would be… awful. And the worse part of it was that Zowie would have to take it all with a brave expression on her face for she was, after all, solely to blame for everything.

There was no guessing as to whether Orlando had noticed her doubts about this or not; not  when they had discussed them repeatedly and at length during the previous nights in the darkness of their room. And while he supported her decision and backed her up a hundred per cent, he also was doubtful as to what the events would do to her, and thinking of his obvious concern was the only thing that managed to erase the preoccupied scowl from her face and bring a smile to her lips as she started the steep descent down Upoko Road. His love never failed to fill her heart and soul and to give her the strength she needed when things seemed much too rough for her, but as fulfilling as it could be, Zowie knew she still needed more from life than just him. She needed completion, and that was something she could only find herself. Once, she had thought Orlando was all that would suffice to cast all the dark clouds of sorrow away, but now she knew better.

And because she knew better, and because she had come all this way to make things right at last, Zowie had to put herself in the line against Orlando’s best interests – and even her own – and go through this with Brooke. Because running away had already taken a big toll on her, and leaving things unfinished had proved over and over that it did nothing but break her already battered heart. So as she physically took a detour from her current route, Zowie did her best to shift her thoughts elsewhere as well, and as the landscape unrolled before her, its beauty helped her succeed in her plans.

The Hapua Valley was a stretch of land on the side of Mount Victoria crossed, at least partly, by a pedestrian’s only path. The vegetation there was abundant and lush, even if it did began to acquire the golden and bronzed shades of fall at that time of the year, and its beauty instantly connected to something in Zowie’s heart; that part of her that would, forever and ever, be a Wellington girl, born and raised in those same rolling hills, bathed by the bright sun and having felt the wind on her face bringing with it the salty essence of the bay at her feet. No wonder she had never managed to feel quite at home in Los Angeles, she mused. When compared to the American city, Wellington was pure and natural beauty that rejuvenated her heart.

The pedestrian’s path zigzagged downhill, taking her to the bottom of the valley on a quick and painteresque shortcut to the Hataitai Bus Tunnel running through Mt. Vic, and while the scenery was both beautiful and obviously familiar, doubts still lingered in the back of her mind despite her best intentions.

It was impossible to silence them for too long, and Zowie had to realise that nothing would manage to do that entirely until she did what she had to do. But, moreover, until she admitted what she had been unsuccessfully trying to dodge since finding out about Brooke.

She knew it was silly and pointless to keep on coming back to the same subject over and over again, but even though she tried to convince herself of the opposite, there was no escaping the one thing that stared at her with unblinking and telling eyes. Brooke had achieved her dream of becoming an actress. There was no mistake about it, Zowie was proud of it; prouder than she felt she had any actual right to, to be honest. When she had done some online research to find out as much as she could about Brooke, she had discovered that, not only had she participated in a number of stage productions while studying in Dunedin, she had also landed a regular part in a very popular national TV show and had many projects aligned for the future, once the run at Circa Theatre was over. Which was great; Brooke used to be very talented when they were young, and with more in depth schooling and experience, she could have only become amazing. Moreover, she deserved every bit of her success as far as Zowie was concerned. Which was perfect and all, but when Zowie thought about it all and weighed her friend’s achievements against her own, she couldn’t help but wonder, _well… what about me?_

Zowie hated herself for letting that resurface, having battled so hard with the idea, but her mind had always been stronger than her, and far more determined. Brooke had done so much in such a short period time, had worked actively to make her dream come true, but what about her? What had Zowie done to achieve her goals? Once, shared dreams of a future spent with Brooke as a successful actress and Zowie a PE teacher that inspired her students had filled countless hours spent together. However, while her friend had achieved her part, Zowie had got lost along the way. How had she looked forward to the experience of living in Palmerston North, of immersing herself in the university life and being a grown up away from home! She had always had the ability to envision herself preparing for a future that could only be bright, and while at it, having the time of her life.

But then, her life had taken the most unexpected turn, and what had until then been not simply desirable, but to her seventeen-year-old eyes, the coolest thing in life, had vanished in the air like sand castles in a storm when a tall, lanky English boy with a light yellow sweater and brown curls breezed into her life one cold afternoon years and years ago. And yet, it wasn’t his fault. It could never be. Orlando had done everything within his power to discourage her, to push her in the direction her life should have been taking her, but Zowie, as stubborn as always and with a determination that put all her previous decisions to shame, had thrown it all away. She had left it all behind without a single glance back over her shoulder. Happily and willingly, she had pursued something that was far more interesting and appealing that a student’s life at the Palmerston North’s campus: life with Orlando. An idea that, while truly amazing in theory, had proved to be nothing but hellish when put to practice, and that had thoroughly vaporised all her chances at the future she had once envisioned. An action carried on solely and consciously by Zowie, and no one else. And, consequently, no one should ever carry the blame for it but her.

God, how she missed Rebecca’s guidance at times such as this! She had come to terms with her past as a drug addict and with her present as a recovering one, and knew that regaining control of her life the way she had was by no means an easy feat, but no matter what, Zowie still couldn’t help but think that her addiction had made her throw away many years of her life. Years that could have been spent doing something productive. Years that had shamed her for so long, and that she had learnt to deal with during her time in Prescott. Meeting her past here in Wellington was stirring all sorts of emotions inside her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what would Brooke think when the past years of each other’s’ lives were compared.

If she gave her the chance to do so altogether, Zowie mused. Perhaps that was what she should concentrate on, instead of gravitating from one of the scale to the other, from sheer happiness to the utmost depression like she had since leaving the house. First of all, Brooke had to open a door for her. If that came to happen, then… well, she would have to play it by ear.

Walking down the steps that led to the part of Hapua Street open to traffic, Zowie stomped her feet each time, as if punctuating her determination of steering away from such thoughts, at least for the time being. She felt the way she felt, and that was it. Period. She couldn’t change her heart or her feelings. Dealing with them was the best thing she could do, and she knew what happened to her when she fretted too much. So filling herself with determination, she focused on other things.

Such as Brooke’s play, for example. _“The Lie”_ , the story of a family whose patriarch held secrets untold for years until they created havoc in everyone’s lives when exposed, brought a small grin and an arc to Zowie’s eyebrows as she thought about it. Any connections to her real life were purely a coincidence, obviously, but the irony certainly didn’t go missing to her. That Brooke, who had always been in the know of everything that went on the Hart household, participated on a play that was so close to Zowie’s own story tickled her amusement. Well, she mused. If anything, she hoped Brooke had been able to draw some information and tips to make her performance more realistic and believable. Someone had to get something right out of William’s debacle, right?

Still trying her earnest to keep her mind away from the darkest aspects of the task ahead, Zowie walked down Hapua Street, taking on another steep descent, and thanking God for it. Back in the day, no hill in Wellington, no matter how steep or rough, had represented an obstacle for Zowie. And as she grew older and the effort began to show in her legs, making them toned and shapely, she had been more than grateful for the geography of her hometown. Now, however, after years away and having not faced the same challenges on a daily basis, Zowie felt the strain every time she attempted tackling the side of Mt. Vic on her way home. She still faced it nonetheless, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat and hoping for the day when she arrived at her mother’s door without a slight change in her breath.

God, how she loved this city! The pure, nearly untouched greenery around her, the nature at her fingertips and at her very door, the clean air that filled her lungs… Once, long ago, before leaving New Zealand and trying her luck in foreign countries, Zowie had looked at this city and thought that, no matter where her future led her and whatever adventures she should have, Wellington would be forever engraved in her heart and her soul.

And that was the one thing Zowie had been right about all along. She had been to different places and, almost at twenty-five, had gone through things other people could only imagine experiencing in a lifetime, and still, no matter what, Wellington ruled her heart. Perhaps that was why she had felt so at ease in Prescott, she mused; because with its mountains and easy life, it had reminded her of her hometown. Wellington was the place where her life had taken initial shape and where she had learnt to love, while Prescott was the place where the reins of her existence had been once again, and for all time, put back in her hands, and where that love she had once thought lost had come back to her life.

Now she was back, right on time for her twenty-fifth birthday. Which was only a few days away, and had her mum going over celebration plans like crazy. Noemie was determined to go all the way, spare no expenses and, above all, no effort whatsoever. Zowie, on the other hand, while knowing she couldn’t ignore the day altogether – nor wanting to, anyway – preferred something more humble and not quite as flashy. They had finally met on a middle ground, with Noemie seeing the light and giving up on some of the more outrageous things she had come up with, and with Zowie agreeing on others based mostly on the excitement and joy she could see glowing in Noemie’s eyes whenever the party was mentioned. _“You can’t simply ignore it, dear… twenty-five is a big number!”_ , she would say every time Zowie tried to reason with her. And no matter what, she had to admit that Noemie was right. Twenty-five was indeed a big, important number for anyone, but most importantly, for someone with her past.

Much to her surprise, especially when considering her past reluctance, Zowie discovered herself a little excited about the event as she boarded the number 2 bus right on the entrance of the Hataitai Bus Tunnel on Waitoa Road and sat right by the window. To be honest, she had never been entirely against the idea, just a little… doubtful, in fact. She had known she would spend that special day in Wellington when she and Orlando decided to fly there, but the idea of any sort of celebration had never crossed her mind. In a way, however, her mum’s excitement must have rubbed on her, for that, along with Orlando’s encouragement and Jared’s incessant prodding arguing that he needed a good party had managed to make Zowie cave in. She seriously doubted Jay would get the kind of party he claimed to need, but well, she wasn’t going to be the one to point that out, she mused with a cheeky smile on her lips.

It wasn’t going to be anywhere near as spectacular as her mum had originally envisioned; instead, it was going to be a much smaller affair at a lodge outside Wellington Noemie and her business’ partners worked with on a regular basis. She imagined that was how she had got a hold of the place, for it was a rather popular venue for weddings and conferences, and Zowie was willing to bet her mum had pulled all the strings available to get that place. And she couldn’t blame her, for The Lodge, such its name was, was a beautiful, breath-taking place some twenty minutes outside Wellington on the Pauhatanui valley overlooking the Porirua Harbour. She had yet to visit the place, since Noemie refused to have her helping in any way – _“It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be doing any work!”_ – but as far as the pictures she had seen had told her, she knew she was in for a wonderful treat in every way. The venue offered a number of activities for the guests to be involved if they wanted to, and Zowie had the feeling Noemie had signed them up for them to keep her daughter’s mind busy and away from the fact that half her family – namely her father and her sister – might not be there to celebrate such milestone with her.

Zowie shook her head on a rather energetic manner to dispel the dark thoughts that threated to set over her once again, and then gave a sheepish look around her at the other passengers, wondering whether they had noticed her gesture. Having completely forgotten she wasn’t alone in that bus, she was relieved to find out that none of the other people in seemed to be paying her any attention. And that was a good thing, she mused as she resumed her sightseeing through the window. She didn’t want to be weighed down by the possibility of people recognising her, but neither did she want to hide and spend her days and nights locked up in her room, fearing the chance someone would link her to the girl whose face had reached the local papers when her relationship with Orlando had been discovered.

 _“New Zealand beauty for British hunk”._ Good God, Zowie still cringed whenever she remembered the obnoxious headline printed in big, bold capital letters Jared had shown her. In Jay’s defence, it had been as per her own insistence, for he hadn’t truly seen the point on torturing her with what the New Zealand media had said or speculated about her, and neither had Orlando. He, especially, rejected the idea.

What her boyfriend failed to understand, however, was that Zowie didn’t feel the morbid interest on what the press said about her that he imagined; all she needed was to know what she would be facing in her home country, should the worst come to happen. That headline, as cringe worthy as it was, had been forgotten, Jared had assured her, and Zowie’s own determination was what had managed to keep her from becoming overly paranoid. Orlando didn’t feel entirely the same way, though, which was why he had been so worried about her taking the bus to the city centre instead of letting him drive her there. He worried someone would recognise her and harass her, she realised. Especially when he wasn’t around to protect her. And as much as she loved him for that, for caring about her so much, Zowie still felt this was the right way of doing things. She couldn’t escape things anymore if she wanted to grow up. And in a country where Orlando and everyone else that had been involved in _Rings_ was considered pretty much their own, the interest they created in the people wasn’t something to be underestimated. Especially with a Kiwi such as herself involved in the whole matter. But to her, the point was to remain silent. The more she opened the door to the people writing such articles, the worse it could prove to be, so silence was her path of choice.

There wasn’t much time for musings in the bus, for the ride was sort and took no longer than ten minutes. And there was no chance to be paranoid, for she had, what? A two, three block long walk from her stop to the Circa Theatre? Unless she opted for an outfit that covered her from head to toe, there was no hiding herself. She was willing to bet she would draw more attention to herself the more she tried to go unnoticed, so taking a deep breath that failed to ease the knot of shuddering nerves in her stomach, Zowie left her seat and the bus, and set foot on the sidewalk of Courtenay Place, right at the door of St. James’ Theatre.

Walking down Courtenay Place gave Zowie the oddest sense of déjà-vu mixed with a certain sense of novelty that managed to throw her off her balance with pretty much every step she took. How many times had she walked down those streets before? Too many to possible count them. It was Wellington’s hub, and there was always something to do and some place to be in the area. Consequently, Zowie knew it like the back of her hand. Even if she spent the next twenty or thirty years of her life away from Wellington, she would still be able to come back at any time and remember exactly where she stood, where everything was, and how to reach any point of the city from that particular spot. Things, however, had changed during her absence. Not too much as to puzzle her completely, but enough to certainly attract her attention to some spots.

Some buildings had been modernised, exteriors painted with different colours than the ones she knew and recognised, and little details, here and there, kept her eyes going back and forth from one side of the street to the other. It was just like her life, Zowie realised. There had been changes, undeniable ones; new layers added as she grew up and matured to go along with the times. But the basis, she mused, the core of what made her Zowie Hart, remained the same no matter what. Well, if she had ever needed a bigger proof of the depth of her connection to this city, there it was.

Upon reaching the corner of Taranaki Street, Zowie knew exactly what she would find, and the sight of the New Zealand and Ireland’s flags rising and falling in the wind that blew form the nearby harbour didn’t disappoint her. Crossing the street northwards, Zowie made the briefest of stops at the door of Molly Malones, a regular meeting point of the _Rings’_ actors back in the day. It used to be one of their usual hangouts, where they would go to relax and have something to drink after a long week of shooting under Peter’s orders. Consequently, one of those places Zowie would have gladly given a kidney to be able to be at when things first started. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she walked past and sidestepped to avoid, just barely, a little boy that was obviously only just beginning to know his craft as a skateboarder. Let the past be the past, Rebecca had told her once. Well, many times, in fact. Just not the easiest thing to do when she was right on her way to making amends with it, she mused with a half amused, half worried expression on her face.

Then, as if determined to show her that there was no running away from her past no matter where she turned, but that she was destined to meet it face to face with every step she took, another piece of her history came to sight when she reached the next corner.

At her left, about less than a block away and with its distinctive façade of white, long balconies interspersed with tinted windows, was the Duxton Hotel, the location of her Leavers’ Ball so long ago. It was impossible to fend the first memory that came to her, that of Elijah’s reaction upon seeing her in the high heels she had chosen, a memory that brought a wide smile to her lips. He had been her saviour that time, and she had been so, so thankful of him! Showing up without a date would have been not just any social faux-pas, but _the_ social faux-pas she would have never, ever recovered from, at least in the perspective of 1999’s Zowie. But as she walked, other mementos came to mind, and the biggest, most important one, revolved around Brooke’s involvement in the whole thing.

Who was there to share Zowie’s drama at her inability to find The Dress? Who had walked up and down every street in the Wellington city centre looking for the dress that would beckon them like a siren’s call? Who was the one to share her excitement when Noemie finally found The Dress for her? Brooke. And not just that, for her part in it didn’t just limit itself to the previous preparations. Sharing the Leavers’ Ball with Brooke was one of the fondest memories Zowie held in her heart, one that had a special place amongst all the other moments the girls had shared in the past. And for the sake of that shared past, of that friendship that had meant so much to both of them, Zowie was on her way to meet her, hoping in her heart things would turn out right.

Upon announcing her decision to meet Brooke, Jared had jumped to the chance and, after doing what he had called a _“careful and discreet”_ questioning at the theatre, had found out the rehearsal schedule for Brooke’s play. Thinking of her brother’s adamant insistence on participating in her plans, Zowie arched an eyebrow. Although Brooke had been a permanent fixture in the Hart household for years and years, Jared had never expressed nor showed any interest in her. That had changed now, obviously, but Zowie couldn’t quite determine whether the interest he expressed was of the serious kind, or simply the instincts of a healthy young man taking over. Either way, his curiosity had been useful for her, and had opened the door she needed to meet her old friend again. Not knowing where Brooke lived and not really wanting to involve her family in the matter, this option was the next best thing.

The last few meters that separated Zowie from the Circa Theatre seemed to her far shorter than she had first expected, and every step she took toward her final destination made her heart thump at an even wilder pace. As she crossed Cable Street, giving both sides of the street an instinctive glance to avoid being run over by a car despite her growing nerves, all the possible outcomes she had tried so hard to ignore came back to her, hitting her with the force of a hurricane and making her almost dizzy with their intensity. How innocent of her to even think that she could keep those things under control forever! That they wouldn’t come back to haunt her when she least expected it! Her legs trembled as she crossed the street, and it was a miracle they didn’t give way under her as she did. But then again, had she been able to keep her fears under control, she would have most likely not been there in the first place, with the Te Papa Museum at her right and the Circa Theatre’s one storey building nothing but a few steps away.

By the moment Zowie finally, and safely, set foot on the sidewalk that led to the theatre’s door, the trembling had managed to extend to her entire body, making her wonder whether it showed to those that passed by her and what they made of it. There were few passers-by and they barely spared her a glance, which eased some of her more urgent worries. Others, however, only seemed to increase when she looked at the building before her.

There wasn’t much going on at that time of the day. Lunch had already taken place some time ago and there were still some hours left until the people working in the area began the return to their homes, and as far as the theatre was concerned, all the activity centred around a truck loaded with what Zowie imagined were props for one play or another of the ones taking place there. A security guy made slow, lazy rounds near the truck, absent-mindedly studying the activity around him with the typical interest, or lack thereof, of a person bored out of his mind of a slow day at work. He noticed Zowie standing a few meters away and gave her a somewhat more interested look, but since she didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention, she turned her back on him, as if she waited for someone. Which was true, actually; the security guard just didn’t really need to know who she waited for, of course.

Turning to the flow of traffic as if the person she waited for had to come that way, Zowie nevertheless tried her best to keep an eye on the back door the actors used to leave the premises once rehearsals were done. If Jared’s _intel_ was anything to go by, of course. He had certainly spent more hours hanging around the theatre than recommended in his debut as a stalker, so he must have surely learnt something in the meantime!

Yet, regardless how much she teased her brother, Zowie couldn’t deny that his investigation had certainly been fruitful. Thanks to Jared, she now knew that the actors usually left the place around 3 PM, little over a half an hour from now, and she fervently hoped nothing had changed the usual rehearsal schedule precisely that day. The premiere night was near, though, so she imagined that, if anything should happen, the cast would be held inside the theatre for longer than expected polishing the last few details for the big night. Zowie prayed the latter was the case that day. If after so many years she finally gathered the courage to face Brooke and ask for forgiveness, miss her for only a few minutes would be a blow Zowie wasn’t sure how to handle.

Minutes ticked by. Cars rushed past her, as well as passers-by going on about their business. Some didn’t spare a glance to the young woman standing in the sidewalk, shielding herself as best as she could from the increasing wind blowing from the sea nearby, others might have looked in her direction, and one or two stared at her more attentively, but Zowie avoided those with great care, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. Not an easy thing to do when she was the only person standing on an empty corner for such a long time, but Zowie still tried nonetheless. And every minute she spent trying to appear as unworthy of attention, she also spent it wondering what to do, should the worse come to happen and Brooke put her on the spotlight somehow. Pacing nervously, all the while eyeing the street and the door alternatively, she was so focused on her concerns and her fears that, after her long watch, the first actor to come through the backdoor almost went unnoticed to her.

At first, and given the constant flow of workers coming in and out of the building, carrying props and the most diverse of things, the tall man walking out the door looked like just another of the aforementioned workers to Zowie. She barely spared a glance in his direction at first, but something, she didn’t know what, drew her attention back to him. Perhaps it was the way he was dressed, or something a little more subtle, like the way he carried himself, his movements and his demeanour as he talked over the phone, what prompted Zowie to pay him closer attention. He had to be somewhere in his early fifties, was tall and elegant, and what was more important, now looked over his shoulder at a group of people that began to follow him on his way through the door.

How many of them were there? Four, five people? Zowie wasn’t sure. She couldn’t be, for the moment her eyes trained on a blonde head thrown back in laughter, all others faded in the background as she got the first glimpse of her friend from so, so long ago.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 26**

 

Brooke had changed. Not so much that it would make her unrecognisable, but even for someone who had shared great part of her life with her, the difference was obvious. The long, light blonde hair remained the same; the way she wore it, however, had varied, becoming more stylish and elegant with layers and subtle waves here and there. Jeans and a bright blue sweater was her outfit of choice for the day, and she was slipping on a denim jacket as she stepped out. Yet, as if noticing someone’s eyes fixed on her with great attention, Brooke’s blue eyes scanned the area around her. At first, they skimmed past Zowie, obviously discarding her as another of the passers-by that gave them mildly interested looks, wondering whether they were celebrities they should know. But then, as if drawn back by some unknown force, those same blue eyes returned to Zowie’s frozen body, fixing on her with a look that went from shocked to wary in the space of mere seconds. A look that, no matter how prepared Zowie had thought herself to be, it still made her heart ache.

She allowed the scrutiny. Was there truly anything else she could so? Putting herself in the position of vulnerability, Zowie remained rooted to her spot for the entire time. She had already made her move. Whether it proved to be successful or not it was all up to Brooke, on her acknowledging that it was her turn now. If she came to her, then they would be able to take the next step, wherever it might take them. If she turned around and walked away… Zowie would have to deal with it the best way she could. At least she had tried, and no one could take that away from her.

There was indecisiveness in Brooke at first, and for some tortuously long seconds, Zowie experienced that hollow sensation in her stomach, so familiar at one point in her life, born of anxiety and uncertainty. Unable to turn around no matter how much a voice inside her urged her to, all she could do was keep her eyes focused on Brooke as she, at last, tore her gaze from her and shared a brief talk with her colleagues. After a laugh and the proper goodbyes, Brooke set on Zowie’s direction. One or two of Brooke’s colleagues threw puzzled looks in her direction but, in that moment, Zowie couldn’t care any less what they made of her. All she could worry about in that instant, was that Brooke was coming her way, and that it could mean a number of things, and not all them were necessarily positive. So, still rooted to her spot, Zowie’s eyes followed Brooke on her approach, blue eyes fixed on blue eyes; a pair of them wary, the other holding a dose of fear, mildly concealed by a determination that fought a desperate battle to remain there.

But Brooke went to her nevertheless, and that alone spoke volumes to Zowie. Nothing was guaranteed, many things could still happen, but that she came to her, that she didn’t turn her back on her meant something to Zowie.

The silent was poignant and heavy, filled with so many unspoken words the moment Brooke stepped before her and both girls stared at each other for the first time after so long. Neither said a word, and fleetingly, Zowie wondered whether they were able to; all she knew was that there was a knot in her throat that allowed no word to escape in that moment. But as instants passed, both young women carried on staring, as if unsure what to say next, or whether something should be said at all. Should Zowie feel surprised about that particular fact? Not really, she mused as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other; not considering the way they had parted ways all those years ago. What she couldn’t deny, however, was that Brooke had done her part, more than she had dared to hope: having seen Zowie there, she had accepted the opening she offered and had come her way. Now the ball was in Zowie’s court, and her turn to explain why she was there in the first place.

“Hi, Brooke.”

Brooke’s eyes never faltered, always fixed on her. They might not be judgemental as Zowie had feared, but neither were they as open as they used to be when they were younger. That was to be expected, of course – however, it still hurt Zowie’s heart right where she had stored all the memories they had created together; the part of her heart that treasured the moments of her life when everything was innocent and nothing was ever so hard it couldn’t be solved with some effort on her part. That part of her life when everything was still under control and didn’t spin around heedlessly, making her loose her footing for so, so long.

“Zowie. This is rather… unexpected.”

There was a civil tone to Brooke’s words, one that spoke of politeness even when faced with such shocking situation. However, that same politeness also carved a distinctive distance between them, a seemingly insurmountable rift separating them in the given circumstances; one that dropped a heavy weight on Zowie’s shoulders, making her hunch under its sheer volume. Where to begin? God, she wished she knew. The million things she wanted to say, that she had planned to say, they all rushed to her lips, tripping with one another and tangling there to the point of refusing to come out. She knew there would be no use on coming across as even more demented that Brooke surely already thought her to be, so Zowie tried to do what seemed more appropriate and that wouldn’t send her old friend running for the hills the way she surely hoped to do: she decided to start from the very beginning and see where it took her.

“I… I’m sorry to drop here like this, unannounced, but…” At loss for words for an instant, Zowie fixed her eyes on Brooke as she struggled for a way to communicate her ideas, her mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of the water. Feeling the courage that had led her there leaving her by leaps and bounds, Zowie scolded herself in a bout of anger. Trying to hold on to that bravery that seemed to slip between her fingers like sand, Zowie took a deep breath and looked at Brooke square in the eyes. “I just wanted to talk to you for a while, if that’s okay with you. I’m well aware that you might not want to hear any of it and you have every right to, but I honestly think I owe you an explanation… and an apology. But if you don’t want to hear it, then I’ll understand and I swear to God I won’t bother you again. I just… I just had to try.”

When Brooke stared at her, it seemed to last long, endless instants. Instants in which Zowie became aware of everything that took place inside and around her; almost painfully so. The breeze blowing from the harbour became increasingly colder, and having picked up speed, blew her hair in her face, blinding her in occasion. It slipped under her denim jacket and thoroughly beat her long-sleeved top in the battle for warmth, making her shiver briefly. The wind carried the voices of the other actors their way and Zowie knew, without even looking, that they were certainly glancing in their direction, doing their best not to seem too obvious about it. All of it as doubts and questions crossed Brooke’s serious face, her drama training unsuccessful to keep them from her expression.

“Look, I know I did wrong. I was awful and I probably have no right whatsoever to ask anything from you, let alone this and in front of all your colleagues.” Zowie urged, conveying her feelings in her voice without even trying. “But I can promise you that I will never, ever bother you again if that’s what you want. If you never want to see me again after this, then I’ll understand, but I just need this one chance to tell you how truly sorry I am. That’s all. Please.”

For a long, tortuous second, Brooke didn’t say a thing. And for that second, Zowie could have sworn her heart had refrained from beating, making her feel dangerously lightheaded. Just what she needed, Zowie mused, scolding herself; to faint in the middle of the street to attract even more attention. She steeled herself though, and immobile and silent, she once again put herself under Brooke’s intense scrutiny as if looking for something, a sign Zowie didn’t know of, and making her feel as if Brooke could peek into her very soul as she did. Which wouldn’t be entirely unlikely; not given how close they had been at one point of their lives.

Not that it mattered too much right now, anyway.

In the end, whatever Brooke looked for in her, she didn’t seem to find it, for taking a deep a breath she then let out in a long, heavy sigh that indicated Zowie her friend might not be surprised if she regretted this later on, Brooke eventually nodded, wariness colouring her every feature.

“All right. Okay, we can talk. Just… not here.” She said softly, yet with determination, as she subtly eyed the other actors with a rather pointed stare, one Zowie didn’t miss. Then, nodding to her right, she indicated Cable Street. “My car is over there.”

The relief that washed over Zowie was so overwhelming, she could it feel it filtering through her every tense muscle like water trickling through the rocks, relaxing her so suddenly and so unexpectedly, it made her knees feel like jelly under her as her heart, for the first time since leaving her mum’s house, stopped galloping like a wild horse. The feeling, however, was short-lived. Yes, Brooke had agreed to talk to her. Talking, however, didn’t necessarily mean anything other than that. She would lend her an ear but, would she be forgiven in the end? Zowie couldn’t know. Just like she knew that, by agreeing to listening to her, Brooke didn’t exactly relieved her of the responsibility of her actions years and years ago. She just had been given a chance, that was all. What happened from then on, well… there was no way to anticipate that. With that though, her heart, which had seemingly returned to its normal pace, resumed its galloping as if nothing had ever happened.

Nevertheless, Zowie gathered the courage to give Brooke a quick nod and the ghost of a smile before following her to a pretty blue car parked a few meters away. She couldn’t, for the life of her, make out which kind of car it was or what brand, and honestly, she couldn’t have cared less. She simply slid into the passenger’s seat when Brooke opened the door for her, buckling herself in with fingers that were suddenly more trembling and clumsy than usual. When that was done and there was no more possible delaying, she turned to her old friend with a look that was questioning, wary and even slightly fearful, all at the same time. If Brooke noted that last bit, she didn’t mention it. She was starting the car when she finally spoke again.

“I’m afraid you have become quite a celebrity around here.” She said, and to be fair, her voice seemed devoid of all judgement. Nevertheless, Zowie winced and closed her eyes, hunching her shoulders with defeat as a wave of discouragement threatened to take her over. Ouch. Okay, that was so _not_ the opening she had been expecting, but could she truly expect anything else?

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to respond.

“Not because I wanted to, believe me. Had I had any saying in the matter, those pictures would have never been published. They would have never been taken to begin with. It was simply… horrible.” Zowie couldn’t repress the shiver that coursed her at the memory of her intimate moment with Orlando plastered online and on papers for everyone to see. It was one of the moments of her life she could have easily done without, but that had somehow shaped her into the person she was.

When the car slid to a stop at a red light, Brooke turned to her, a sympathetic glow in her eyes as she stared at her.

“Such things… they should never happen, you know? At least, that’s what I think. Such invasion of a person’s privacy, regardless whether they’re famous or not…” Brooke shivered a little. “It’s horrible. Truly, truly horrible. I’m really sorry about that.”

At such unexpected display of support and understanding, Zowie sketched the tiniest, most insecure smile.

“Thank you.” She wished she could have said more, but didn’t dare to. She didn’t want to push her luck.

Brooke shrugged it off as she started the car. That moment of bonding, however, didn’t last long, and the silence that followed stretched uncomfortably as Brooke took a right to Jervois Quay, the figure of the Duxton Hotel looming at their left. The car advanced a few more meters in silence until Brooke finally spoke.

“What brought you here anyway?”

She made it sound so easy, as if the conversation between them was as effortless as it used to be back when they were seventeen, but Zowie wasn’t sure such thing existed anymore; at least, not in that car. Not with the tension so palpable coming and going between them despite the support shown instants before.

“Mmm…” Zowie hesitated. “ _Here_ as in Wellington in general, or _here_ as in your car in particular?”

Brooke scrunched her nose prettily as they approached the Michael Fowler Centre.

“I meant Wellington. I think I have a pretty good idea why you’re sitting in this car right now.”

Ouch again. Okay, now _that_ was a change from all the previous understanding Brooke had shown! Zowie sighed, feeling defeated once again. And there she was, thinking once she settled things she wouldn’t once again feel the emotional rollercoaster that had been a rule in her life some time ago. Brooke certainly knew what to do to keep her on her toes, guessing her every comment and action! Turning her attention to the street, her lips formed a thin, tight line before she answered at last.

“It was crazy over there, impossible to carry on living with any resemblance of normalcy. We were locked inside my house, couldn’t get out to do something as simple as shopping for groceries… but it all reached its limit when they somehow got into my job. When that line was breeched, we realised there wasn’t much else we could do. It was a complete nightmare.”

The car carried on forward smoothly, and for a brief second, Zowie wondered whether Brooke lived far; she wasn’t sure she could handle that polite but rather impersonal conversation much longer.

“I’m not sure how much you know about it, but… it was all over here.” Brooke’s tone was hesitant and dreadful, almost as if it hated it had to be her the one to break the news to Zowie. “I remember the papers were, in a very sadistic way, of course, over the moon that a guy as famous as Orlando had chosen a girl from this end of the world to be his girlfriend. I can understand the interest to some extent, but the rest of it? Horrible. Just horrible.”

Zowie nodded. She certainly empathised with that opinion more than Brooke could even imagine.

“Well, being in the midst of it wasn’t exactly easy either. It got so bad that in the end I realised all I was doing in Arizona was hiding, as simple and that.”

Those words must have sparked something in Brooke, for she suddenly perked up, and tearing her eyes from the road for the briefest second possible, she gave Zowie a look that was half puzzled, half coloured with wonder.

“Arizona, Zowie? How did you end up there? What on Earth brought you there in the first place? Why couldn’t you just come back here or go someplace you already knew?”

For a moment, Zowie was surprised at the intensity, the concern behind Brooke’s words, but for once, she refused to let her hopes build and grow, unsure as she was that her old friend wouldn’t shoot them down like she had before. That, and the fact that she didn’t truly feel comfortable bringing forth the topic that had to be addressed, regardless of what Brooke already knew about it.

“Rehab.” Her statement was brief, simple and direct. She knew, however, that it still left much to be desired in terms of details, and that it surely arose even more questions in Brooke’s mind. Nevertheless, there was no possible way to make the long story of what had happened before, during and after Morocco short in any way that would make it understandable for her in such a brief period of time. If she was given the chance later on, then fine, she would do it. In the meantime, Brooke would have to be happy with the briefest explanation possible. “The centre in Prescott specialises in young people and my kind of addiction.”

“Pills?” Brooke added in what seemed a helpful tone, one coloured with a hint of curiosity. She knew that much, had seen Zowie taking a pill years ago, but Lord had she missed a lot of her preferences after leaving Wellington! Running a hand through her hair and looking outside the car, Zowie finally answered.

“Not really. Heroin.”

It was sheer luck that Brooke had slowed the car at a stop sign; otherwise, she would have surely stepped on the breaks in shock, causing God knew what kind of havoc among the cars behind them. Taking her eyes from the road, Brooke stared at Zowie with shock and surprise shining in her blue eyes.

“Wait a second… Heroin? Zowie, what… how…?”

Cheeks tingling with the telling blush that spoke of her shame, Zowie nodded slowly, her head lowering in embarrassment for an instant. A second later, however, she looked up again, determination painted in her every feature.

“There are many, many things we need to talk about, Brooke. Many things you don’t know and that surely you don’t understand. But if you have the time and really want to hear it all, I’m here to tell you all about it. It’s up to you.”

The way Brooke stared at her, square in the eyes and with such a piercing glow in her own, made Zowie feel as if she was being observed to her very core. It was unnerving and, at the same time, very, very humbling. This girl behind the wheel had once known her inside out, had known everything there was to know about her, and now Zowie was putting her heart in her hands. To come back, to pour her heart out to her and hope to receive forgiveness in return was something the old Zowie would have never imagined happening to her. Hell, she wouldn’t even have gone as far as _considering_ such thing was possible! But there she was, and it was one hell of a life lesson to learn.

Was Brooke looking for any signs of the old Zowie in her, the one she had known so well? Most likely, Zowie mused. Perhaps she was even trying to reconcile this woman sitting next to her to that child from long ago, wondering whether she could trust her after how they had left things last time they saw each other. She must have found some sign deeming her worthy of her trust, for when the light turned green, the car carried on forward down Jervois Quay in a heavy silence.

Whitmore Street passed in a blur once Brooke turned westwards, leaving the sea behind them. As soon as the buildings opened and the street was cleared, a distinctive building not too far in the distance caught Zowie’s eye. The Beehive. It was another one of those landmarks that she had grown so accustomed to, that she had given it for granted, and that she hadn’t realised how much she had missed until she saw it again. However, it wasn’t that the Parliament Buildings made her particularly melancholic; it was what lay not too far away, just a little up the hill, what got her feeling a little chocked up.

St. Mary’s College. Her old school. Brooke’s old school. Where they had met and where they had shared many of the things that had made them become best friends. Was Brooke thinking the same thing? Zowie couldn’t know, for she didn’t dare risking a glance in her direction.

Still in silence, Brooke drove right next and pass the Beehive and then took another left. The buildings closed in on this street, with important ministries, business and hotels here and there right off the busiest streets of the area. It wasn’t too busy, but there were definitely a few cars going in the same direction as theirs, and while there were certainly many things to look at, to busy herself with until they reached their destination, Zowie couldn’t quite manage to do such thing, wringing her hands nervously instead. How long would the drive take? How much longer would Brook give her the cold shoulder and, more importantly, how much longer would she be able to handle it? Running a shaky hand through her hair, she turned to look out her window one more time, praying Brooke didn’t live that further away.

And her prayers were answered. Just as she began to think she wouldn’t be able to sit in that car with that heavy silence hanging between them, Brooke once again took a left turn. This time, however, it took them straight to a garage door belonging to a building Brooke activated with a tiny remote control she picked from the car’s console.

“Come on.” Brooke finally said, looking at her with a slightly less severe expression on her face after she finally parked the car. Zowie turned to her, somewhat surprised to finally be on the receiving end of her attention. “The lift is over there.”

Zowie sighed before acknowledging Brooke’s words with nothing more than a swift nod of her head. Sliding out of the car, she slipped her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket, reminding herself all the time that this was something she wanted. Brooke didn’t have to be exceedingly friendly; she only needed to listen to her long enough for her to say that she was sorry. The rest was nothing but a bonus.

So still in silence, Zowie surrounded the car and obediently followed Brooke, standing next to her without saying a word waiting for the elevator to reach the garage; a few seconds that seemed an eternity to her. There was such quietness around them, that Zowie had no problems hearing the sigh that escaped Brooke’s lips before she turned to her with a determined expression on her face.

“Look… I’m sorry.” She blurted out so suddenly, it took Zowie by surprise. Looking up for the first time since leaving the car, her blue eyes met her friend’s as Brooke struggled for words. “This isn’t easy and I’m just… well… shocked! I… let’s go upstairs and talk, okay?”

Her words weren’t apologetic. Not in the least. If anything, Brooke sounded like she stated a fact. Which probably was the case, of course, Zowie mused. But then again, Brooke’s shock was more than justified, and Zowie wished she could come up with something smart, appropriate, even, but could merely stare at the woman before her in a stunned silence, not sure what appropriate meant anymore when applied to situations such as this. When the elevator reached them and announced itself with a _ping_ , Zowie couldn’t have been more grateful.

“Let’s go.” Brooke said, stepping aside and offering Zowie the chance to enter the lift first.

Nothing changed as they rode the elevator, and since she couldn’t pretend to be surprised about it, Zowie busied herself with the most menial and, sadly, the only task left for her to do in that enclosed space: stare as the buttons lit up, indicating their travel upwards with their bright orange lights. The round silver buttons were of a great interest to her, since the silence in those small confines was just as, if not even more awkward than it had been in Brooke’s car. The only change in her behaviour came when the light to the 12th floor lit up, the elevator’s door opened up and Zowie allowed herself a tiny, nearly imperceptible sigh of relief.

“This way.” Brooke said, and once again, Zowie followed her obediently. The change didn’t go unnoticed to her. The tables had turned, and in a great way. Back in the day, it used to be her the one to lead the way, with Brooke following suit; when things weren’t too crazy or risky, of course. Now it was the other way around, and the confidence she used to show once seemed to have magically flown over to Brooke without her realising. Another sigh escaped her. No one said owning up to her mistakes would ever be easy, right?

Ahead of her, Brooke opened a door and turned to her with what Zowie interpreted as the ghost of a smile.

“Welcome. Please come in.”

Zowie returned the gesture, sure that her own smile was just as insecure and hesitant as Brooke’s, and stepped in, her head low for a second before she finally looked up to assimilate her surroundings.

It was a pretty place. Small, but functional with splashes of colour here and there, and yet, the more Zowie looked around, she couldn’t help feeling something was amiss. The white walls gave the whole place a minimalistic ambience, the very cool and modern kind one could find in decoration magazines, with a single piece of artwork hanging from the walls in tones of red and black. It matched the chairs with their red upholstery and the scarce furniture of black wood, but the place lacked something. Brooke had always been tidy, so there was no surprise that the only things out of place were a couple of scripts laying disorderly on the table, but still, the whole place didn’t seem… lived in to Zowie. It lacked something. It was almost too neutral, too correct. It lacked Brooke’s personal touch.

“Nice place.” She said, turning to Brooke with a tiny smile. “Have you been here long?”

Brooke was busy locking the door when she shook her head in response.

“Thanks. Not really. In fact, these are serviced apartments. Nothing here is my own with the exception of my clothes and a few other things.”

Zowie’s eyebrows rose an inch as she nodded understandingly.

“Oh.” The question was dying to come out of her lips, and although she reined it back for a few seconds, it finally won the battle of wills and spilled before she could stop it. “Why serviced apartments?”

Taking her jacket off, Brooke indicated Zowie the seat behind her. Imitating her, Zowie got rid of her own denim jacket and hung it from the back of her seat as the other woman did the same and took off to the open plan kitchen separated from the living area by a bar.

“Coffee?” Brooke asked, coffee machine at hand. Zowie nodded. As she prepared the brew, Brooke addressed Zowie’s earlier concern. “I haven’t been back in Wellington for long, and I’ll leave soon after the run of the play is over. My parents offered to take me back, but I can’t subject them to the crazy schedules that go with a theatre play. I know they want to help and I appreciate it, but I thought getting my own place would be wiser, and a serviced apartment seemed like the most convenient option. So far, it hasn’t proved me wrong.”

Zowie blinked and her heart fluttered with the slightest hint of hope. Those words? It was the most Brooke had spoken to her since their argument in her bedroom seven years ago, and a voice inside her told her to hold on to that flickering light with all her might. If talking about her job was the one thing that got Brooke going, then Zowie could do that. She could play along and pray things evolved well from there.

“So… you said you’ll be leaving once the play is over?” She asked, hope blossoming in her chest like a bloom under the first rays of the spring sun despite her best intentions. “Are you going on a vacation or something?

Brooke grinned as she poured the water for the coffee, and the gesture took Zowie completely by surprise.

“Not really. Actually, I’m moving to Australia. I got a part on a show there that will premiere next year and I’m flying over to start shooting the moment the play is over.” Wide-eyed with surprise, Zowie spun in her seat to look at her, and her shock must have been obvious in her face, for Brooke’s grin widened as she turned the coffee machine on. “It’s really, really exciting. It’s a historical show, you know? There’s going to be a lot of research involved, so I can’t wait to start. The script is amazing, but I’m trying to focus on the play for now.”

“Wow, that’s… great!”

And it was. It truly was. There was no denying it, and Zowie’s honest intention had been to sound appropriately cheerful about it, for there was no reason to feel otherwise. However, the slightly puzzled look on Brooke’s face told her the comment hadn’t come across exactly as she had expected.

Her eyes drifted back to the black surface of the table, shying away from Brooke’s inquisitive blue gaze. How could she ever explain to her what went through her heart and her mind? That seeing and hearing the evidences of her success only served to remind her of the years she has spent lost in the haze of drugs and sharing her life with an abusive boyfriend? That no matter how proud she was of her achievements, she couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure when compared to her feats? She couldn’t. In her professional and personal success, and regardless of how hard she tried, Brooke would never be able to understand it all.

When Brooke took the seat across from hers, Zowie couldn’t look up at her as promptly as she would have liked. When she finally did, however, it was with eyes that spoke of shyness and regret at the things that had happened while they had been apart. Despite their hands being mere inches apart on the black surface of the table, they didn’t touch, and for that, Zowie was glad; she wasn’t sure how she would react if Brooke showed her any pity. Some of the old Zowie was still alive inside her, and the idea of eliciting the pity of her oldest friend didn’t sit well with that part of her.

Brooke’s reaction, however, caught her by surprise.

“Tell me everything, Zowie.” She said with a serious and non-judgemental expression on her face. Her blue eyes were clear of any preconceptions, and if anything, she looked somewhat anxious, as if she couldn’t wait to hear the entire story. “That’s why we’re here after all, is it?”

Well, that she was right about.

So Zowie did as asked. She told Brooke everything, starting with Wellington right before she left and how bad she felt at the way the status quo of their friendship had changed leading her to leave her behind. But she didn’t stop there. Los Angeles was next, and she spared no details, despite the first astonished and then appalled paleness that took up Brooke’s face. And then there was Spain and Morocco, and how falling back in love with Orlando had brought her battered heart back to life, and how that same heart had ended up in tatters when she realised that the best for them was to leave him live his life as it was expected of him, without her in the picture. When Prescott came, Zowie’s soul experienced a surge of life once again when talking about how she had gained control of her life, and how Orlando had finally come back to her. 

“You have to understand, Brooke. When I left Morocco, I hit my all-time low. I had gone through some pretty bad things before, but thinking that my love for Orlando was bad… that it was bad for _him_? Can you imagine what that can do to your head? To your heart?” Expectant, Zowie turned to Brooke, hoping to convey with her eyes whatever her words failed to express. “It messes up with you big time. But even if it did, I still had enough presence of mind to know what to do. Back in the beginning I would have hidden behind drugs, blaming everything and everyone for the way my life had turned out to be nothing like I had expected… like I had been _told_ it would be! But thanks to Geoff and Orlando, but above to myself, I knew I couldn’t go back to that. And although leaving was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, it turns out it was also the best decision I could have made in my entire life.”

Her vehemence seemed to be having some effect in Brooke, for her eyes softened, if only the slightest. It was a far cry from the understanding she had once seen in them, but still more than she had dared to expect a few hours ago; enough to encourage Zowie to go on with her heartfelt words.

“All I could do for him back then, was hurt him. Everything I touched seemed to deteriorate in the blink of an eye, and I loved Orlando enough to understand that I didn’t want that for him. Or for Geoff either, for that matter, for he too was being dragged through the dirt for bringing me into the production.” Taking a deep breath, Zowie lowered her gaze for an instant before letting it drift outside the window, to the hills beyond. “But I also realised that all I would ever achieve by staying by Orlando’s side would be his shadow, that I would never grow into the person I could be. I would spend my entire life depending on him and hiding behind him without ever doing a single thing for myself, and although it hurt like hell, I knew staying like that wouldn’t do us any favours. And if he knew where I was, if he followed me… not only would it hurt his career, I would eventually fall back into my old habits.” When Brooke’s face took on a confused look, Zowie hurriedly added. “I don’t mean drugs. I was through that. I wanted to get help and with paparazzi following Orlando everywhere, that would have never happened in a healthy way. So even though I needed him, I had to leave. It killed me, but in the long run… it turns out I was right.” The ghost of a smile played on her lips. “For the very first time in my life, apparently.”

The silence fell heavy and thick between them, and it took Brooke some tortuously long seconds to finally let out some kind of signal of her feelings. It came in the shape of a long and heavy sigh, and although it wasn’t what Zowie had expected, she had to admit that she hadn’t been sure exactly what to expect to begin with. The sigh was followed by the intake of a deep breath and her blue eyes meeting hers somewhat lingeringly.

“This is… well, this is quite a lot to take in, honestly.” Brooke said, her voice showing her hesitation, her uncertainty, and Zowie imagined she was looking for the right way to label everything she had just shared with her. “I knew there were many, many things I didn’t know, but this goes well beyond anything I expected.” Her eyes darted left and right, as if looking for an answer, a way out, and when she found none, they flew back to Zowie, her utter puzzlement glowing clearly in them. “How, Zowie? How did it all come to this? Why did you never tell anyone anything? We could have helped you, could have done something…”

“You couldn’t have done a single thing. None of you. Because when you’re lost in addiction the way I was, you become a selfish bastard. You could have tried anything in your power and nothing would have ever worked because I liked the way I was. I _liked_ being miserable.” The words Orlando had once said to her rang in her memory: _‘You know what's your problem is, Zowie? I'm not sure you honestly want to keep us from worrying. I think you actually like the idea of being miserable.’_ It had stung like a knife driven through her heart back then, but looking back in time, she could now see how right he had been. “There are times when you are in so much pain, it pierces through your heart and overwhelms everything else. You can’t feel, you can’t think straight… you can’t do anything. But then, one day, you are offered a lifesaver, and it works! Suddenly, there’s no more pain, no more worries, no more concerns… nothing but happiness. Everything else fades into the background as long as you feel nothing. But once it dies… God, it’s awful!” A shiver ran down her spine. “Once it dies, you need more. You think you can control it, that you can handle it in small doses, but the pain never quite fades. It gets worst and you suddenly need more and more… and then you realise there’s no way out.”

When she met Brooke’s eyes after her long tirade, Zowie was prepared to see lots of emotions playing there: anger, disappointment, a complete lack of concern, anything. But the pity she saw there, and the guilt that brimmed along with her unshed tears? That caught her completely off guard.

“Good God, Zowie… I had no idea! I was so mad when I found out that you were doing drugs, I had no idea what to do. I…” A sob caught in her throat, and Zowie could feel her own tears welling up. “I walked away hoping it would make you see some sense, and when it didn’t I was so mad!” When a solitary tear rolled down her cheek, Brooke wiped it almost angrily, and that same emotion permeated to the words that followed. “It was idiotic of you, Zowie… complete stupidity! You had it all: a great family, friends, a whole network of people that could help you, and you still _had_ to do drugs? What the hell were you thinking? Couldn’t you see what you were doing to those who loved you, what you were doing to yourself?”

Zowie thought it might as well have been a rhetorical question, but she still answered it nonetheless, with a voice that was merely a whisper.

“No.”

Such simple answer seemed to further spark Brooke’s anger.

“Of course you didn’t! And you know why? Because the only thing you could think of was Orlando! Bloody Orlando… I hated him _so much_ back then! Everything you did was because of him. He turned your life upside down and then left as if nothing had happened, leaving you a complete mess without a single look back…” A disgusted expression took over her pretty face, and Zowie realised this was the angriest she had ever seen her in all the years she had known her. “And I was so mad at _you_ for never being able to look beyond that guy ever since the moment he first showed up… For a time, I hated you, Zowie. I honestly did. You were so self-absorbed, that all you could think of was Orlando and how to get him. And you never did. All those stupid things you did to get to sleep with him and you never…”

“I did.”

Brooke almost ignored Zowie’s soft interruption, but her brief remark must have registered between her angry haze, for she cut herself mid-sentence and looked at her with a hesitant look.

“What?”

“I did sleep with him.”

Stunned to a complete silence for several seconds by Zowie’s admission, Brooke’s mouth gaped open as she stared at her, disbelief painted in her every feature.

“Excuse me… what did you say?”

“I did sleep with him.” She said, meeting her eyes. “And it was a complete disaster.”

“You… God… Why…?” Brooke stuttered her words, and the look on her face would have been funny, hadn’t they been having this heart to heart. “You slept with him back then?”

Zowie nodded.

“Just once, and it was a complete disaster. That, along with my parents’ divorce, got me hooked up on drugs in the first place.”

It took Brooke a couple of seconds to react, but when she finally did, she held nothing back.

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew that guy was trouble the minute you started gushing about him! He got you out of your mind, Zowie, and I couldn’t stand it! He stole my best friend from under my very nose and wasn’t happy until he had you dragging through the dirt, nearly crawling at his feet like an idiot with no dignity whatsoever.”

So that was what had bothered Brooke so much, Zowie realised. Not just the fact that she was gambling with her health and her own life; also the fact that Orlando had snatched her from her. She knew trying to defend Orlando would do no good, but she still had to try and make her friend see her point. Both Brooke and Orlando were important parts of her life; parts Zowie wanted to get along as best as they could if this was going to go anywhere.

“This wasn’t Orlando’s fault, Brooke. He tried to discourage me time and time again, and you know it… you were there! It was me who never understood what he was doing. I was obsessed with him and wouldn’t take a no for an answer. When it finally happened, when I finally slept with him, I thought it would be perfect, that he would open his eyes and realise that I was the only woman he would ever love and all that… but it was nothing like it. Nothing.”

Brooke, who had left her chair and had begun pacing the entire length of her apartment, whirled towards her with murder glinting in her eyes.

“Because you were an idiot! A complete and utter idiot! You always thought of yourself first and you never gave others a second thought. Sometimes, Zowie, I think you deserve everything that happened to you.”

Brooke’s words had been born out of anger and disappointment, were harsh and rash without any further consideration, but the message they carried was undeniable. The worse part about it, was that as much as it pained Zowie to admit it, she knew her friend was right. Painfully so.

“Sometimes… sometimes I think that too.”

She didn’t know whether it was the tone she had used or the power behind those words, but Brooke seemed to sober up all of a sudden, and her aggressive stand loosened up, if only just a little. She turned to Zowie and seemed to see her, _really_ see her for the first time since walking into her in the theatre’s sidewalk. It wasn’t easy to sit there and stand the thorough examination Brooke subjected her to, but Zowie understood this was part of the process, something her friend needed if they were going to get anywhere.

Sitting down before her once again, Brooke took a deep breath. Posing her hands on the table right in front of her, she laced her fingers and stared straight at Zowie’s eyes. There were still remnants of her earlier anger, for it couldn’t vanish so quickly, but they were slowly being replaced, as if she had sobered up and had begun thinking about what she had just heard.

“I won’t deny it. When I first found out, I was furious with you. _Furious_. And I still am, if you ask me. The way I felt back then didn’t go away easy, and while at least I think I understand some of your reasons now, I still feel like you didn’t give a damn about all those years we were friends.” Her voice had begun to rise once again but Brooke controlled herself, taking a deep breath before her temper and her whirling emotions got the best of her. “But I can’t deny we were kids back then, and that it’s very, very easy to look at things that happened so long ago with much older eyes and pass judgement. Still, you were an idiot, Zowie. You should have talked. You should have asked for help! I know what happened to your parents was horrible and that it can shake up even the most rounded of personalities, but that’s no excuse. I hated Orlando back then because I blamed him for everything that had happened, and I think I even hated you for a while, and if forgiveness is what you’re seeking, I’m not sure many people would be able to give that to you so easily.”

Zowie drew in a shaky breath. In so many words, what Brooke had told her what that she wasn’t sure she had it in her heart to forgive her, no matter how much she understood some of the things that had happened. She could hardly say she was surprised, even if for the shortest while, Brooke had nursed her hopes before shooting them down like that. Nonetheless, she had given it a try. Zowie had gone to her and had opened her heart to her. When she looked back at this day, her heart would rest at ease knowing that she had, at the very least, tried.

“I understand.” She said, after taking a deep breath she hoped would keep her emotions in check for the time necessary to speak her mind. “But I had to try nonetheless. Part of my rehab, you know? Make amends with those you’ve hurt in the past. I just hope you’re not mad at me for barging into your life like this. I’m sure you have bigger things to worry about right now than this.”

She pushed her chair back, ready to stand up and leave, when one of Brooke’s hands posed itself on her own, stopping her cold. It was the first sign of closeness taking place between them in years, but Zowie didn’t dare to hope, didn’t dare to read any more into it than a simple, instinctive gesture when her eyes met hers.

“Stay here. Don’t go yet.”

A part of Zowie begged her to close that door behind her and go on with her life, even if she had to deal with the pain of the confirmation of having lost her best friend forever, but another one urged her to stay. Perhaps, if she did the latter, Brooke would begin to see things her way and…

“I’ll be right back.”

Brooke gave her no chance to challenge that request, for she stood up and went to her bedroom before she could even utter a word. So, obediently, she sat back and waited while rustling noises came from the other room, signalling Brooke looked for something, probably in her closet. She returned less than a minute later, bearing something Zowie couldn’t quite see, for it was wrapped in some sort of bag, as if to keep it safe from whatever dust could gather on it. She wondered briefly about its contents, though, and quickly turned her gaze towards Brooke once again.

“Like I said, I was mad at you for a long time, and a part of me still is.” Brooke said as she sat down and placed the bag on the table between them. Taking a deep breath, she then looked up at Zowie, and what she saw in her eyes shook her heart and got it fluttering with a hope she hadn’t dared to feel until then. “But hearing you say all those things, hearing you admit you were wrong and that you’re trying to make things better… I don’t want to judge you anymore, Zowie. I can’t say it will be easy, but if you can battle something like this, then I guess I can try and look past the silly mistakes we made as kids.” Sliding her hand inside the bag, she said. “Once, long ago, I was given something that meant a lot to me, because it portrayed some of the most important years of my life. But above all, because you were in it too.”

What Brooke got out of that bag, was the last thing Zowie could have imagined.

It was the scrapbook. The same one she had made for Brooke right before she left for university. And not in a million years, would have she imagined her friend would have kept it all those years.

“Oh, my God…”

When Brooke’s gaze locked with hers, she could see tears shining it, but above all, the understanding and the love she had so badly hoped to see again.

“The day you gave this to me, you said you had left the last few pages blank for a reason… so we could fill them up with the moments that were yet to come.” Opening the book on the first blank page, Brooke turned it to Zowie. “Perhaps we could start filling them now?”

Zowie wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but one instant she was still sitting on Brooke’s chair, they next they were locked in a hug like the ones they had shared all those years ago; one that spoke of joy, friendship, memories, and wishes to carry on. To leave the past behind. To look towards the future and hope it would be as wonderful as they had always imagined.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 27.**

Zowie felt happy.

How long had it been since she had last felt that way, since contentment had filled her heart, leading her to feel a peace of mind she hadn’t known in a long, long time? Zowie wasn’t entirely sure. What she did know, however, was that, had she felt any of this recently, it most certainly had had something to do with Orlando reappearing in her life. But even than had been different.

Because back then, having Orlando walking back into her life had meant something else: it had meant the beginning of something. The start of a process, even, that she had been delaying for a long time. For even though living in Prescott had meant gaining some control of her life, it wasn’t until he showed up that she finally realised that the only thing she was doing in Arizona was hiding in those mountains that offered such safe haven for her.

However, now that said process was well underway, and that it had proved to be far more successful than she had first dared to hope, Zowie’s heart fluttered with joy. For once, and after so long, things were finally working for her. And what mattered the most: _she_ was making them work for herself.

Surrounded by the walls of the room she had spent so many years in, with those posters and decorations she had chosen herself and lying on the bed where so many dreams had been dreamt, Zowie felt, for once, in peace as she stared at the small collection of pictures in her cell phone. There couldn’t be more than five or six of them, but what those pictures represented meant far more than the small amount they added up to: they represented another step to closing the circle she had flown all the way to New Zealand to conclude.

As she flipped through the pictures taken the day before at Brooke’s, Zowie couldn’t help but wonder why she had been so afraid to meet her. That feeling was short-lived, however, when another voice inside her reminded her of the fear that had gripped her at the time. There had been nothing said, nothing she could have bet on hoping for an outcome. Like in every other situation, there were two distinct possibilities, and given how things had ended between them, the odds were, most certainly, not on Zowie’s side. It had taken telling Brooke how sorry she was and admit she had been, in some cases, quite conscious _and_ thorough when hurting people, for her friend to see how horrible she felt about everything she had done and for her to grant her the one thing Zowie had gone to her for: forgiveness. It had been every bit as hard as Zowie had anticipated, but the picture that stared back at her – probably one of the most beaming selfies ever captured – told her that, after making so many wrong decisions, this one had been right. Perfect, in fact.

A smile played her on her lips as Zowie tore her eyes from the small screen and turned them to the roof, her hand coming to a rest on her stomach. Filling that first blank page on Brooke’s scrapbook… that moment had filled Zowie with a joy that had almost made her heart burst, but also with a kind of hope she hadn’t dared to dream of, and that had blossomed in her heart as of late; one she clung to with all her might. It was a hope that told her that things would work out in the end, but that left her with one single certainty amidst the sea of insecurities that had made up her life in years past: that they would work simply because _she_ would make them work. It was a hard concept for the old Zowie to grasp, given how much she had expected everyone to do her bidding and how she had put her happiness in other people’s hands, but that side of her was long gone. If her years in the darkness had taught her one thing, it was that she was now in control of her own life. She had grown confident of that fact thanks to rehab and the psychological support of Rebecca back in Prescott. However, seeing it done, seeing herself regaining control of her life and her future? That was something entirely different. She had known in her heart all along that she could do it, otherwise she wouldn’t have gone as far as flying to New Zealand. Having been lost for so long, nonetheless, still left her a nagging bit of insecurity that she battled against every day.

Boy, how had she changed over the years! At the sole thought, Zowie’s small smile took a distinctively amused tilt. Back in the day, when she and Brooke were kids, such simple things as having her picture taken with her best friend would have been the most normal and usual thing in the world, something she would have taken absolutely for granted. Now… now she was simply grateful and overjoyed that, after so long and so many things, it had actually come to happen again. Those feelings, the way they touched and affected her, showed Zowie very clearly how the arrogance of her teenage years had deprived her of many, many moments with her loved ones. And of her own volition, she might add; for no one else could ever be blamed for that. The good thing, however, was that she was making amends, and seeing her attempts succeed inspired her to carry on.

Nevertheless, visiting Brooke hadn’t ended after a hug, a picture, and a new entry in her scrapbook. They had also taken the time to discuss Zowie’s family and the state of her relationship with them, the plans both girls had for their future and, before her time at Brooke’s came to an end, she had extended an official invitation to Zowie – and Orlando, of course – so they could see her play on stage before they left the country. Which, of course, Zowie had no idea when it would happen. She knew it would happen one day or another – most likely, as soon as Orlando couldn’t keep evading his responsibilities and had to fly back to Los Angeles – and as much as she loved Wellington with all her heart and knew she would miss her family terribly, Zowie knew her life wasn’t there anymore. She would be forever linked to that particular spot in the world, but her life and her future would be wherever Zowie made them to be.

So by the time the visit ended and Zowie arrived home, it was to find a very anxious Orlando and a slightly less anxious Noemie. And how did Zowie know that? By simply taking a look at them, for while Orlando could be heard stomping down the stairs the minute she slipped the key in the front’s door lock, welcoming her with disarrayed curls that spoke of hands ran through them more times than she could possibly count, Noemie sat demurely at the kitchen table, a cup of tea between her long, elegant fingers and a relieved glow in her grey eyes. That, and because she could almost visibly see the tension lifting off their shoulders as she recounted the events of the evening. Zowie shook her head, smile still in place. Not quite so different from what she had felt earlier that day. That night, Orlando had held her as close as physically possible when in bed, as if he had feared losing her. Not that she could blame him; not with her past record of inability of dealing with disappointment.

Speaking of Orlando, wasn’t it time he came back already? He was running some sort of errand for her mum; surely taking to some place or another the last deliveries Noemie had received. Whichever it was, Zowie wasn’t sure, but by all means, it seemed to her as if he should already be back. Her eyes followed the path of a solitary moth of dust floating above her in the sun light, her mind lost in thought. Orlando knew his way around Wellington and was always more than willing to help, but Zowie couldn’t help but wonder whether her mum didn’t want to show her daughter’s boyfriend off in front of her business associates, if only a little. Not that they weren’t sufficiently charmed already as it was, she mused; seven years ago, Zowie would have climbed the walls with jealousy at the way some of them had looked at Orlando upon meeting him. Luckily for them, they had behaved normally after a couple of meetings. Otherwise, this new, mature but still very much Zowie at heart wouldn’t have minded putting them back in their place should that be necessary.

Somewhere above her, the land line began to ring, but Zowie failed to pay much attention to it; she was too busy studying the brown bear that rested next to her on the pillow – the bear Orlando had given her and that she had cherished with all her heart. The fact that it was still there, pretty much where she had left it, showed Zowie how hopeful Noemie had always been that her eldest daughter would be back. How and when, there had been no way of knowing, but that had never stopped her mum from hoping and trusting that Zowie would one day find the way back home, and the sole thought moved her deeply. Could have Zowie herself feel the same in her mum’s position? She imagined she wouldn’t entirely know that until she had a child of her own, and while Zowie couldn’t see that happening any time soon, she surely knew she didn’t want them going through the same things she had gone through. Zowie shook her head. She still had some growing up left to do before she even considered becoming a mother.

The first signal that something might be going on upstairs, was the sound of someone coming down the stairs in a hurry. Raising her head from the pillow, Zowie frowned slightly, a gesture that deepened the moment her mum stormed into the room, an expression on her face that instantly told her something wasn’t quite right. Dread tap danced down Zowie’s spine and her first thought went to her boyfriend, who had yet to come back home.

 _“What, mum? What happened?”_ She wanted to ask, but the words refused to leave her mouth.

Noemie hesitated for a second, and that brief display of doubt told Zowie everything she needed to know. Whatever was wrong, it was enough for Noemie, even if her state, to take a step back and wonder whether she should share it with her daughter. She tried not to panic, knowing that she took it very literally when she did, taking it to extremes, but she couldn’t help the thumping of her heart despite the deep breaths she took to steady herself before talking.

“Is Orlando alright?”

Taking a deep breath, Noemie closed the door and sat down next to Zowie in a much calmer fashion than the one from seconds ago, another clear sign that whatever was coming, it was really, _really_ bad.

“Mum…” Zowie began to say, but Noemie interrupted her.

“Orlando is fine, he should be back soon. However, your brother called.” What could possibly be wrong with that? The look on Zowie’s face must have been pretty explicit, for Noemie nodded almost imperceptibly. “He saw something online. Apparently someone saw you with Brooke outside the theatre yesterday and well… some pictures came out.”

Zowie took a deep breath. She knew relief was more than a little premature right now, but a part of her decided to cling to it, for her previous brushes with the press had been anything but pleasant.

“Some pictures?” Zowie nodded thoughtfully. There was hardly anything sordid in her hanging out with Brooke at the theatre’s doors, wasn’t it? “We were just talking, mum. Surely there was nothing else remotely interesting to talk about, otherwise why would someone want to talk about-“

“Other pictures showed up. _Older_ pictures.” The tone in Noemie’s voice when she interrupted her wishful tirade this time sent splinters of ice through the younger woman’s heart. It didn’t speak of the everyday picture taken on a sidewalk of two friends meeting again after a long time. That clipped, somewhat angry tone screamed that the shock she had first seen on her mum’s face was quickly turning into anger. And that she would, most likely, not enjoy the outcome. “Can you please tell me when on Earth did you take pictures naked, Zowie?”

She paled, and Zowie could physically feel all blood leaving her face, could feel it going cold for the briefest instant before realization made blood rush back to its place… and this time with a vengeance. There was no need to think hard for an answer, for it came to her mind an instant before her cheeks began to flame with embarrassment. She couldn’t even pretend not to know what she had been thinking at the time, for she knew that perfectly well: she had been desperately looking for a way to keep Orlando by her side, no matter what.

“Why, Zowie? What were you…” Noemie began to say, but her daughter was quick to interrupt her.

“I was lost, mum. It was right in the middle of all my problems. You and dad had just got divorced, Orlando was going away, everything I knew was shattering down to pieces… and all I wanted was to feel some sort of reassurance. I wanted to feel pretty. I…” She hesitated for a second, for she knew that her next words might kill whatever good feelings her mum had for Orlando since he had brought her daughter back home. “I thought that, should Orlando see that I was indeed attractive he wouldn’t go away. And if he didn’t, then somehow everything would be back where it belonged. Life would be as it used to, and I wouldn’t have to find a chemical escape because nothing would demand one from me.” Looking up into her mum’s eyes, she added quietly. “They were never meant to be trashy. Only artistic and sexy enough to hold by my side a boy that could have never been tethered down to anything. They didn’t work, and I think I had pretty much forgotten all about them until now.”

Noemie was shaking her head by the time Zowie finished her explanation, wide-eyed and with utter disbelief written in her every feature.

“Why couldn’t you tell anyone about this? And what were you thinking, for Goodness’ sake? What if the guy who took the pictures was a complete pervert? You could have been raped! You could have disappeared, only to be found months later, dead in a gutter somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Did any of that ever cross your mind?”

For an instant, Zowie lowered her head, embarrassed by her mother’s words. Had she had enough clarity of mind, would have she ever done something as daring? She doubted it. Meeting her mum’s outraged eyes, she finally said.

“You honestly think any of that ever crossed my mind? My life was in shambles, mum. Everything around me was chaos, and all I could think of was that everything would be fine if Orlando stayed by my side because he was the only thing that made sense to me. And how could I possibly tell you any of this? You were in the middle of a divorce, mum… you had enough problems as it was without me adding to it. I know you think I could have talked to anyone, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”

Taken aback by her speech, Noemie stared at her daughter as if she saw her for the first time. They had talked before; long, honest conversations about everything, but the thought of what her daughter had gone through filled her heart with guilt. On one hand, she was still mad that Zowie had never shared an ounce of her problems with her, or with anyone for that matter, for she knew that something could have been done at the time without things blowing out of proportion the way they had. But on the other hand, the Noemie that had once been a teenager, one that had also been mad at her parents on more than one occasion, could somehow understand why Zowie hadn’t mentioned this matter. And not just the pictures, but everything else. Especially since Orlando was involved, and Noemie had often and very specifically made clear what she felt for him around that time. And at that time, apparently Orlando was the only thing that kept Zowie somehow together. It bothered her to no end, but she still tried to understand what her daughter was telling her.

“God, Zowie… what’s done is done and we can’t change it, but I wish you could have talked to me. I know things were rough at the time, but we could have done something about it, we could have got some help, you could have talked to someone… I don’t know. Something could have been done. I just wish you could have seen the dangers in what you were doing. You already dealt with enough things back in America, and now this…”

“I’ve developed a thicker skin now, mum.” Zowie grinned half-heartedly, not sure whether she wanted to reassure her mum… or herself. “At least this time it wasn’t the blatant invasion to my privacy it was before. I always knew people would see these… after all, they were part of a project this guy was doing for college, and I agreed to it all beforehand.”

And still, she couldn’t believe it was happening all over again. The invasion to her privacy, the sick interest in her life, having her past resurfacing once again… it felt like a violation. Of course circumstances were different and, like she had told Noemie, she had known all along people would see those pictures, but still! They were meant with a particular audience in mind, although both the photographer and the model had had different targets from the very beginning. Her target of choice should have had a determined reaction that never came, and as for the photographer’s, it should have been made of his class mates and professors. Whoever saw them should have been capable of appreciating them for what they were, not for the fodder they represented to the most sensationalist side of the press. Besides, what was so interesting about her, anyway? No one would give a damn about her or even give her a second look hadn’t she been involved with Orlando. And that said interest went as far as exposing her half naked in a website? It was sickening.

But as violating and revolting as the idea was, Zowie’s reaction was nothing like before. This time, the first emotion to bubble up to the surface was anger, pure and unaltered. She was done with it. She was done cowering every time someone published something about her. She would not hide again, and she would most certainly _not_ leave Orlando’s side this time. It wasn’t her fault that people thought snooping into someone else’s life was interesting – she couldn’t take the blame for other people’s incessant curiosity. This time, she would hold her head high and carry on. Zowie couldn’t pretend nothing had happened, but she could indeed stop it from altering her life. She had done nothing wrong. Yes, she might have been misguided at the time she posed for those pictures, but she had already paid a very high price for her recklessness, and refused to pay it any further. She couldn’t hide behind her mistakes her entire life! She knew now that one of the prices she would have to pay to be with Orlando was the interest there would be in her life, but since she couldn’t stop it nor alter it, why should she let it rule her life? She wouldn’t hide again. She wouldn’t try and stop the pictures from being published because she instinctively knew it would only make matters worse, but Zowie’s life wouldn’t be altered again. What worried her, now that she looked at her mum under the light of this new determination, was how her decision, and all her past ones, were making things difficult for her loved ones.

It was Jared who had called Noemie to let her know what was going on. How had he found out about them? Had someone showed them to him? Had that same someone perhaps made a lewd joke about the pictures or about Zowie herself, making things difficult for Jay? The thought bothered Zowie to no end and darkened her features with a deep frown. What kind of treatment would her mother face when she went out? Would her clients look at her any differently, would they think any less of her? And what about Noemie’s business, would it see itself affected by the publication of the pictures? Zowie certainly hoped not. She couldn’t quite see how a photograph taken such a long time ago could reflect on her mum’s abilities in the present, but you never knew. And as for Jewell… Zowie winced at the thought. She had yet to talk to her little sister, and she seriously doubted she would want to do such thing after this. These pictures, this publication and the interest it stirred… it could only make things worse between both girls. Zowie sighed, her shoulders sinking in defeat as she shook her head slightly. Had she been born with a knack to know how to make things turn disastrous sometimes, or what?

A rattle on the front door’s lock shook Zowie out of her reverie with its roughness. Almost as if the person trying to open the door didn’t quite know how to do it or was in much of a hurry, keys clinked against the metal outside, making Zowie lift her eyes from her duvet, the blue depths momentarily losing their look of puzzlement as it was replaced by one of utter confusion. Just as Noemie was about to stand up and see what was going on, given that the front door was next to Zowie’s room, said door opened and a frazzled looking Orlando barged in, eyes darting from one end to the other until he saw Noemie standing at his left.

When his eyes, usually dark but now darker with an emotion Zowie recognised as worry, settled on her, she knew exactly what was going on.

“Jared called.”

There wasn’t much he could say, for given the looks on Zowie’s and Noemie’s faces, they were just as informed as he was as to what was going on out there. He had indeed been running some errands as he had told Zowie, just not exactly what she expected – he was busy setting some things up for her upcoming birthday – when his phone rang and Jared filled him in the latest news. He had immediately dropped everything he was doing to go and see how much damage the news would cause once Jared told his sister what was going on.

Warily, Orlando approached Zowie, not sure what to do and what to make out of the countless emotions that whirled inside him. How would Zowie react to yet another invasion to her privacy? Of course this time there were some differences, for she had agreed to these pictures in the first place, but still, they had never meant to be published this way. And based on what he could see as he crossed the threshold to what was now their room, her slumped shoulders and her eyes now shaded by her hair as her head hung low, Orlando couldn’t fool himself. But above all, there was another feeling, one of dread, that trickled down his spine as a thought slowly dawned on him.

What good did it do to Zowie to have him in her life? The truth was simple, yet painful: whatever interest there was in her existed solely because his relationship with her. Was he inadvertently exposing her to things she couldn’t handle? Should he step aside, let Zowie live the life she deserved in peace? As soon as those doubts shaped, Orlando was struck by a wave of a feeling so strong it shocked him; not so much due to its intensity, but by its true and virulent nature. It was selfishness. Because while deep down inside Orlando knew the right thing to do would be to step aside and let Zowie live a life free or any form of harassment, he realised he wouldn’t be able to do that no matter what, for after searching for her for so long, there was no way he could give her up that easily.

The thought was disturbing in its self-centredness, but hadn’t he known Zowie felt just as strongly for him as he did for her, guilt would have flooded Orlando’s heart in an instant.

However, the moment Noemie left her spot on the bed so he could take it, Orlando knew that his most urgent concerns had no basis on reality. There was a storm in her blue eyes, that was for sure, and feeling coloured her every feature, but there was no sadness or regret clouding that face he loved so much. Instead, such an unwavering determination glowed there that surprise hit him hard the moment Zowie looked up at him.

“Are you alright?” He felt rather stupid for asking, but Orlando wasn’t going to overlook what could be brewing inside her based on the face she put to the world, because he knew how good Zowie was at hiding what truly troubled her.

Her nod, quick and swift, was accompanied by a flash of anger crossing her blue eyes that took Orlando completely by surprise.

“I am. I’m _so_ mad, though.” Her answer came through gritted teeth, a confirmation to her words. “I just wished they would leave me alone for once. It’s not me I’m worried about, but every time something like this comes up, I know my family suffers.”

Her words perked Noemie up, almost as if she hadn’t been quite expecting them.

“We can handle it. We are here for you, Zowie.” From her spot by the door, Noemie’s statement came as quick and swift as her daughter’s nod just instants ago the moment she heard the words that had made her stop dead in her tracks. “We are always here for you and you know it.”

Zowie’s half-hearted smile lightened up the concern and the anger that set her features into hard lines, accentuating her square jaw line.

“I know that and I appreciate it but, what will happen when it becomes a problem for you? Or Jared? Will your business be affected by it? Does Jared have to deal with some nasty comment coming from a colleague? What if he reacts badly and his own career is in trouble? I would never forgive myself for that.” Zowie had purposely left Jewell out for she didn’t even want to think what her estranged sister would make of it, and how badly it would affect whatever attempt to warm things up between them.

Leaning on the door frame, Noemie’s eyes fixed on her daughter’s, as if hoping Zowie would truly and fully understand what she was about to say.

“Like you, your bother has developed quite a thick skin over the years. He can handle it, Zowie, and so can I, so stop worrying about us. We will get over this together as the family we are, and that’s it.” The pointed look Noemie gave Zowie and Orlando meant more than the sole and powerful words she had spoken. It meant that she included Orlando in the family she had mentioned, and for both of them, having her support after her feelings toward him in the past was paramount. “I’ll be upstairs now. Try and relax honey, okay? It will do you no good to hold the grudge inside you.”

Noemie began to turn away, but catching both her and Orlando by surprise, Zowie jumped to her feet and engulfed her mum in a hug so tight Orlando was sure was crashing Noemie, although the wide and emotional smile on her face spoke of the opposite.

“I love you, mum.” Zowie spoke in Noemie’s ear before letting her go with a smile. “Thank you for everything.”

Watery-eyed, Noemie’s smile was beaming nonetheless.

“That’s what I’m here for, honey.”

Smiling at them, Noemie closed the door behind her, and they could hear her soft steps as she headed upstairs.

When Orlando turned to her with concern still clouding his eyes, Zowie sat down beside him and took his hand between her own.

“I’m fine, honestly.” She said, almost reading his mind. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was mad. Mum can say she and Jay can handle it, but I don’t think I would ever forgive myself if this affected them in any way. More than it already has, obviously.” She added almost as an afterthought. Then, releasing Orlando’s hand, she rubbed her face with her palms before running her fingers through her long hair. “I don’t think Jules will ever want to see me again after this.”

The ringing of the front door’s bell filled the short silence before Orlando answered.

“She will. She obviously doesn’t idolise you the way she used to in the past, that’s for sure, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you anymore. Once she gets over her anger over everything that happened, you two will be able to sit down and talk and-“

None of them had heard Noemie coming down the stairs nor her opening the door, but the ruckus that took place the moment she did? That was simply unavoidable.

“Where is she? Where the _hell_ is she, mum?”

Zowie’s breath caught in her throat and her heart, after having stopped for a long, painful second, resumed its beating with the rhythm of the galloping of a horse gone wild. Years might have passed since she had last heard that voice, but no changes could ever disguise the truth from her.

Jewell.

Zowie’s mouth went dry. Instead, her palms began to sweat uncomfortably. Her heart thundered in her chest and a million scenarios, all of them dreadful, played in her mind, but even though the outcomes of a meeting with such an obviously mad Jewell appeared bleak, Zowie stood up and her feet carried her almost on their own accord to the door, Orlando and his own shock completely forgotten behind her.

She never made it to the door, though, for it was pushed open and it almost slammed against the wall, having narrowly missed Zowie on its hasty path.

Once again, Zowie lost her breath when faced with the image standing before her. Of all the times she had pictured meeting her little sister once again, having said meeting taking place in a moment such as this had never made it into the possibilities. Never had she imagined that the flames of the anger and resentment Jules surely felt would have been stoked to reach new and unprecedented heights by a media publication dragging Zowie’s name through the dirt once again. And never had she imagined what seeing her little sister would do to her.

Who stood before her wasn’t the crying little girl Zowie had left behind at the airport to fly away on a selfish whim. That teary-eyed girl had worshipped her, had drunk from her every word, and had wanted all her life to be like her older sister.

The woman standing before her, however, was none of that. Wanted none of that. She was furious and her grey eyes shot daggers at her. Nonetheless, what affected Zowie the most was to realise that, amidst the selfish fog that had clouded her life during so many years, she had missed how that little girl that had once wanted to be part of St. Mary’s football team just to be like Zowie, had become a grown woman. A stylish young woman, with her blond hair cut in a fashionable bob and wearing trendy clothes and that stood at her same height. She had missed it all and, most likely, had ruined the bond that had once existed between them, and the sadness she had failed to feel at finding out about the publication hit her in that instant, squeezing her heart in a vice grip and bringing tears to her eyes.

“Jules…”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you even think of saying a word!” Jewell’s words were spat viciously, and with a venom that hit Zowie with a strength she had never imagined possible. The finger her sister raised at her, otherwise a harmless gesture, seemed magnified when supported by the fury that propelled her. “I didn’t come here to sit down and listen to your pathetic excuses. You know why? Because every single stupid thing you do ends up reflecting on me, affecting _me_ , and trying to talk yourself out of it won’t make it better, you hear me?”

Out of the million things her brain willed her to say, Zowie couldn’t manage to push a single one out of lips that seemed sealed as securely as never before. The sheer animosity, the anger, the _fury_ even that drove Jewell gripped her heart like a vice, a hold so intense, it almost deprived her of breath. Realising how much she had hurt her loved ones… it never got any easier, as Zowie was painfully discovering. There was a brief instant when she feared her past insecurities would rush back, fuelled by the tidal wave of animosity she could feel emanating from Jules, but Zowie got a hold on her senses before they could escape her. Sensing Orlando jumping to his feet and standing protectively beside her only served to steel her determination. Resting a hand on his thigh, she silently urged him to stay in his place and let her handle this on her own.

“Jewell, I know this is hard for you and you have every right to be angry, but…”

Grey eyes blazing, Jewell took a step forward, once again interrupting Zowie and making obvious that, just like she had said, she wasn’t there to listen to her.

She was there to say all the things she hadn’t said before.

“Don’t dare think you know how hard things are or have been for me, all of it thanks to you. You know nothing about it, because you never cared enough to look back and see what kind of mess you had left behind.”

“Jewell, darling… please…” Noemie tried her best to interfere, to settle matters between her daughters before they got out of hand, but Jules would have none of it.

“No, mum! She deserves to know. Precious Zowie here, the prodigal daughter, needs to know exactly what happened here after she left without as much as a single look back. Or what, now that she’s back you’ve forgotten how she acted when she left? Or how things were here because of her?”

Noemie recoiled at her daughter’s words, so laden with venom as they were. But above all, Zowie could see that it was something else that bothered Noemie, that made her shoulders slump as if under a heavy weight and that clouded her eyes with a deep sorrow. Noemie had never tried to downplay what Zowie had left behind when talking about it, but she knew she had left the darkest passages out of their conversations whenever the topic was brought up.

When Jules turned to her, Zowie could tell by the look in her eyes that, this time, she was not going to be spared.

“While you were having the time of your life in Los Angeles, this family was a mess, Zowie. A total and complete disaster. Mum and dad tried not to, but they couldn’t help blaming each other for what you’d done. You tricked them, remember? You tricked dad so you could get the money and threw mum’s life upside down right after their divorce. Can you imagine how it was for them? Dad kept flagellating himself over it and mum would blame herself for failing to notice what you were up to. Is that what you wanted when you went away to chase your big dream? And why the hell your dream had to be bigger and more important that anyone else’s, enough to crush everyone on its path? You were so selfish, Zowie… you still _are_.”

The painful bottom line of Jewell’s direct speech was… that she was right. Zowie had been a selfish brat her entire life. And because some things never changed, she was willing to bet that she still was. When faced with the true and whole power of everything she had done to her loved ones, Zowie relived the shame from the past, but also felt a new kind of pain blossoming inside her: the pain she had caused to those she loved, and that she couldn’t possible undo.

“I’m so sorry, Jewell… so sorry…”

What could she possible say that would encompass the depth and intensity of the feelings developing inside her? Nothing. Going for the simplest and truest option seemed the wisest decision.

Not that her honesty would be appreciated at a time like this.

Jewell scoffed at her apology.

“You might be sorry now that you’re here, but what about while you were in America? Or while you were having the time of your life with Mr. Superstar over there until your _other_ boyfriend found out?”

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Orlando had been trying to stay out of what was obviously a family issue, but when Jewell implied things about Zowie’s behaviour she knew nothing about, he had to act. “You have no right to talk to her like that! You have no idea what happened in Morocco. Had you ever bothered to contact your sister at one point or another, you would have learned that the true story was twisted and turned to fit that paper’s interest.”

Jewell’s lips formed a cruel, sardonic smile that made Zowie’s heart skip several beats. She stared at her, as if not recognising her. Where had the sweet, innocent girl gone? And what on Earth had she turned into? Thinking that she had a part, _any_ part, in her change made her feel sick at her stomach.

“Hey, to each his own. My sister happens to like having two guys to herself? So be it. But you know when it became _my_ business? When this family was falling apart, and Jared and I were desperately trying to pick up what pieces we could to keep things in some semblance of normality. When we had to keep our parents going no matter what. When I had to see them crying and suffering over what their darling girl was doing miles and miles away without giving a damn about them.” Jewell’s grey eyes glimmered like quicksilver fuelled by her anger. “Every little one of her stunts? They tore them apart. They tore Jared apart. And me, they made me so mad, so _angry_ that after one point, I didn’t care whether she lived or died anymore. I was so happy when you went off the radar, Zowie… so happy! Because for once, life was easy over here. I didn’t have to read about you or see your face on every newsstand I walked past. But you had to come back… you had to show up and, not only bring everything back, you saw it fit to create a whole new mess so you’re back, as before, at the centre of this family. And Jared and I are back to picking up the pieces, making do with what little of our parents you leave for us, and I will never forgive you for that. Ever!”

A gasp; a pained, sorrowed gasp coming from Noemie, was all that broke the silence that fell on the room the minute Jewell finished her tirade. But if Zowie thought her sister was done with it, she couldn’t be any more wrong.

“Jewell, please… stop!”

Noemie’s pained cry seemed to fuel the fire of Jules’ anger, one that had diminished if only a little after lashing at her older sister to her heart’s content.

“No, mum. I don’t want to stop. I _won’t_ stop because she needs to know the mess she left behind!”

Noemie buried her face in her palms, and the telling shaking of her shoulders affected Zowie more than all of her sister’s words. _You keep on hurting them_ , a voice she hadn’t heard in ages spoke viciously inside her, as if revelling on its comeback after being contained for so long. _Look at your mum. Look how she cries. And your little sister? Take one look at her and see what she has become thanks to you. The harder you try, the more you hurt them all._

The voice of her insecurities, of her self-hatred, that had led her astray for so long, had been smart enough to conceal itself since she had regained control of her life. But it was back now, and the power of the punch it packed left Zowie breathless. She wanted to curl up and cry, wallow in self-pity and hide from the world like before, but the strong presence beside her and, above all, the wave of hard earned self-confidence that swelled inside her didn’t allow her to. It took every ounce of willpower for Zowie to silence that dreadful, sadistic voice and keep a cool head on her shoulders, for she knew that it would do her – and the others – no good if she lost her wits right now when she needed them the most.

As for Jewell, however, it seemed her mother’s voice had never reached her ears.

“With mum and dad wondering where you were and how you were doing, you know what happened to us, Zowie? Nothing. And that’s the worst part. Because worrying about you, they never had time for Jared and me. It was all about you. And I hated it. I _hated_ it!” Taking a menacing step forward, she stood as close to her sister as she had been in seven years. As close as she wished to be right now, which was much too close for Jules’ liking. Grey eyes narrowing with a threat of pain Zowie couldn’t overlook but that she refused to back from, Jewell dropped the bomb she had been holding back until that instant. “I wish you’d never come back. Things were so much better when we all thought you were dead!”

The words hit her hard. They hit Zowie like a tidal wave of hatred coming from Jewell, and guilt and realisation coming from deep within her. Her eyes blurred with tears as her feet remained fixed to the floor, her shock much too strong to allow her any quick reaction. A whirl of blond hair, desperate words from Noemie and the feel of strong arms around her were the only things that penetrated the sheer feeling of confusion that embraced her so tightly. She wanted to make things better, knew deep in her heart that she could try her best effort, but the slammed door that followed Jewell’s angry departure left only one message: she could try, but Jules would never open that door for her. She had hurt her far too much to allow her any sign of forgiveness.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 28.**

 

Zowie had let Jewell have the upper hand. She was angry and she could understand that.

Jewell had had it when showing up at Noemie’s house, unannounced and firing poison-coated darts at her with her every single word.

She had had it every single time Zowie had called, trying to talk some sense into her only to be ignored.

But she had lost a little bit of it every time she hung up on Zowie, slowly awakening her anger and making her see that, unless Jewell got her head out of her ass – and most likely, with Zowie’s diligent assistance – nothing would ever change.

And boy was she going to make them change.

Determination propelled her every step, filtered in every bit of her bones, stopping her from turning on her heels and sprinting back home. Not that she wanted to, anyway. Zowie could understand anger and, in fact, could see where Jewell came from; she had never fooled herself regarding what she had put her family through. But that feeling of self-importance her sister was cloaking herself with, so she could look at Zowie from some higher place and criticise what she had done without knowing a thing about it? Hell, no. She would make Jewell listen, and it didn’t matter whether she wanted it or not. It would happen and that was it. Period. If, at the end, Jules still thought she was too good for her, then so be it.

Zowie could get Jewell’s pain; it was, after all, undeniable. It had been written in her every muscle, had coloured her moves, and had coated each and every one of the words she had spat at her at Noemie’s. But above all, Zowie could see it in her grey eyes. It wasn’t there for the entire world to see for Jules had obviously learnt to conceal it quite successfully, but Zowie had detected it… and it had pierced her heart. The pain Jewell felt? That was the driving force behind her actions, and knowing she had caused that almost crushed Zowie’s heart under the weight of her guilt.

Almost.

Having learned to acknowledge, accept and deal with the pain her addiction had caused in others during her rehab therapy, she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it her entire life, knowing it led her to no good. Neither could Zowie, however, allow her loved ones to do such thing. For her to achieve that, she had to face them, and that was exactly what she was going to do that morning as she walked under the overcast sky of Wellington. She now had the psychological means to face her demons, admit her mistakes and ask for forgiveness. Whether Jules would accept that… it escaped her.

At first, Noemie hadn’t been entirely sure about sharing Jewell’s address with Zowie, and who could possibly blame her? After the drama at her home, who could assure her that something similar, or even worse, wouldn’t take place elsewhere? Zowie had had to work hard at convincing her, and hadn’t it been for Jared’s assistance, she doubted she would have ever succeeded. But Jay, like a good, true lawyer, had managed to make Noemie see the good on both sisters meeting to talk, even if she wasn’t around to referee the whole thing. In all honesty, had Zowie wanted to get Jules’ address she could have got it from Jay, but she didn’t want to bypass Noemie so obviously, like she didn’t want her to feel left out of what was going on.

Once again, like the day she had set off to meet Brooke and once again make amends, Orlando had stayed behind, giving her the space, but above all the trust in her that Zowie needed so badly. He knew there wasn’t much he could do, for this was entirely a family matter and he had been enough cause of problems to the Harts already, so he had, begrudgingly, stayed behind.

It was Brooke who, unaware of the drama that had taken place, had called Zowie with the answer to the mystery as to how those pictures of her had been snapped in the first place. Apparently going after the main actor in Brooke’s play, the photographer had seen both girls together and, having recognised Zowie, had seen fit to take pictures of her without her permission. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, couple them with her older pictures and publish the whole combo under the horrible, degrading, and unimaginative headline of _“Orlando’s Girl Raunchy Past.”_ Seriously? Anyone with one working eye could see that there was nothing raunchy about those pictures. The more daring of them had her leaning on her side, every compromising bit covered by her underwear – however skimpy that was – and her long hair! What was raunchy about that? She supposed that, should anyone want to invent a story and sell it, anything was a strong enough base to build it on.

Too bad not everyone could sense how fake it was, even when it was out there, in plain sight. It was even worse when the first person to believe such crap and hold on to it firmly with both hands was your own little sister.

But she had let Jules get away with it enough. Zowie could deal with it if she didn’t want to see her again, but she was _not_ going to put Noemie through that. Even when the time came for her to go back to America with Orlando, Zowie hated the idea of leaving that unsolved mess behind her. Whatever the outcome, however, she would be able to look at her mother in the face and tell her that she had done her best to make things up.

First, nonetheless, she needed to get to Jules’ house, and having stepped down from the bus near Cuba Street, not too far away from her previous adventure to make amends – that time with Brooke – Zowie set way towards Leeds Street. She went back on her way for about a block, studying the shops and their windows as she went. This had always been an affluent spot in the city, and in some ways, she looked forward to seeing how her little sister lived. And, before long, Zowie had her answer.

A recycled old factory turned into a modern block of apartments, Hannah’s Factory was now the place Jewell had chosen to make her residence. Looking up, Zowie made her best guess as to which one might be her sister’s flat as she let out a loud sigh of resignation and allowed herself a minute to be properly and adequately surprised. She didn’t want to let the cynical side of her get the best of her, but either things were going really, really well for her little sister right after getting her degree in Fashion Design and she was quickly and effectively building an empire under her name… or their dad had had something to do with the girl’s living arrangements in such an affluent place. Knowing him, this had William written all over it.

He had never been able to deal with the guilt that bloomed inside him whenever he did something wrong. It had probably driven him to give his daughter the best flat his money could afford, exactly the same way it had driven him to give Zowie the money to fly to America. Sure, she had tricked him into believing the money would go to funding her university career, but he had never doubted her for a second, when any other parent in the world would have heard all sorts of alarms going off in their heads at the proposal. But, desperate to make amends with her as he was, William had given in with a smile on his face. She didn’t doubt Jewell’s intentions had been clearer from the very beginning, at least when compared to Zowie’s own, but some things about her dad? They just never changed, no matter how many years passed by.

Shaking her head, Zowie closed the distance that separated her from the building. She imagined it would be a bit tricky to get inside, since she knew for a fact Jewell wouldn’t feel too inclined to let her in the moment she rang her bell. Her best guess was to wait for some unsuspecting neighbour to come out and hope her charm got her in as they did. A long time had passed since she had last used her charms for anything, but Zowie imagined she could turn it on for a little while, to achieve what she wanted, just like the old times.

She was close to the door when a guy, maybe in his early thirties, came out the block’s door – the perfect opportunity. Rushing to the door, Zowie put on what she hoped was her best smile, and reached his side in no time. He looked surprised at first, but upon taking a second, closer look at her, he sketched a smile that made Zowie cringe inwardly.

“Hi! My friend lives here and I _really_ want to surprise her. Perhaps you could let me in and help me with my little plan?” Wow, now _that_ had come a little easier than she had first expected! A _lot_ easier, in fact. Plastering her smile more securely on her face, she tried to overlook the lie she was telling, hoping it counted towards the achievement of a greater good.

“Oh, hi.” The guy said, in a decidedly flirty tone that could have made her laugh, wasn’t Zowie so intent on getting through the door he was holding ajar. “And your name is…?”

_Think fast, think fast…_

“Brooke.” _Okay, she’s going to kill me when she finds out._ Anyway, there was no way in hell Zowie would give that guy her real name.

“And may I ask who you’re visiting?” Still smiling, he angled his body towards her, but sadly, so did he in her way to the door.

“Jewell. Do you know her?”

“Oh, yes! Jules, she lives on the top floor, right above me. Which means we will see each other quite often, won’t we, Brooke?”

_I wish I could be so sure…_

“Sure.” She answered, tossing her hair over her shoulder and hoping against hope the guy would just shut up and let her through for once and for all.

When he finally stepped aside, it took every ounce of Zowie’s willpower not to launch herself towards the door.

“Well, I’ll be back later. Perhaps the two of you could come down to my place and have a cup of coffee?” He didn’t waste any time, didn’t he? At least he hadn’t asked for her phone number, because that would have been another lie Zowie would have seen herself forced to produce at the top of a hat.

Still smiling as she inched closer to the door, Zowie finally answered.

“I’ll tell her, just make sure you don’t forget about it, okay?”

How on Earth had she got away with _so_ many things in the past by the simple use of lies? Had she been better at it at the time, or was it that she just had never given a damn about other people’s feelings, which led her to be able to lie shamelessly in their faces? It had to be it, for one thing was very clear after this: that guy at the door? He was most certainly willing to be convinced, for on her part, she was making one lousy job of it herself. Having seen first-hand what her lies did to other people, Zowie had become more aware of the effect they had, leading her to consider it very, very carefully before embarking on such thing.

So, giving the guy what she hoped was a flirty wink and a little wave, and hoping to God Orlando never found out about it because it would most certainly not sit very well with him, Zowie slipped inside the building and only let out a relieved sigh when the door clicked close behind her with a reassuring, and at the same time ominous sound. She was inside, yes, but that meant the hard part had only just started. Allowing herself a minute for a shiver to course down her body, Zowie then speed-walked towards the lifts, hoping the guy didn’t see fit to come back and say, ask for her phone number. Another shiver tickled down her spine. God forbid!

However, the moment the lift opened its door on the top floor, putting her within walking distance of Jewell, Zowie couldn’t help the thought that she might as well have won a battle by being inside the building, but the war? That was a whole different matter, and the outcome was just as unforeseeable.

Still, even under the circumstances, Zowie was not going back. No way. No one had said it would be easy or that it would be any pleasant, but Zowie knew that, no matter what, it had to end. Something inside her told that she could face Jules, that she had what it took do such thing regardless of the outcome. It was another step, probably the last one, leading to her facing the last and biggest demon that needed exorcising from her life: her dad. A grimace crossed her face. That was one thing that needed to be done, but that Zowie was in no hurry to achieve. The lies he had told them had been much too grave for her to look aside just like that.

Now, however, she didn’t allow herself any further hesitations. The minute she stood in front of Jewell’s door, she didn’t stop to take a deep breath, neither did she stop to think what she would say; she simply went on and knocked at the door, preparing herself for what was to come. And when the door opened, Zowie realised no amount of previous preparation could have ever helped her, for while the amicable expression on Jewell’s face was soon replaced by one of surprise at seeing her standing there, it was soon wiped when an angry frown took over her face and she tried to slam the door closed on her older sister’s face.

“Jewell, open up, we need to talk.” Zowie said, putting on her best older sister tone. She could have easily tried to step in the way of the door and struggle for access, but she wasn’t going to stoop that low. They were in that position because she was convinced Jules was acting like a kid, and Zowie wasn’t going to do the same thing.

“We have absolutely nothing to talk about!” Jules exclaimed from the other end of the door. “I won’t waste a single minute of my life talking to a selfish, inconsiderate woman such as yourself. If you want to say how sorry you are, then I’m not interested. Go away and sell that crap to someone who might want to believe it. Such as mum and Jared.”

Every word that came slightly muffled through the door was coated with the same venom and the same resentment Zowie had heard at her mum’s house. Nothing had changed and neither had she expected it to, but hearing it reinforced her decision to be there and her determination to be heard. If Jewell didn’t open the door and talked face to face, then well… Zowie wouldn’t mind involving every single neighbour in their discussion.

“The way I see this, Jules, you have two options. You either open the door, let me in, and the two of us can talk about this where no one else will hear us in an _adult_ manner.” She couldn’t help speaking that last word with a little bit of sarcasm. “Or I can stand out here and include every single one of your neighbours in this argument. _Including_ the cute guy from downstairs that opened the door for me not five minutes ago. Is that what you want? Because I’m not leaving this place until you hear everything I came here to say whether you like it or not.”

The silence stretched for long seconds that, to Zowie, seemed an eternity. She knew Jewell struggled, she hated being the one that put her through more trauma considering what she had already done to her, but it needed to be done. Zowie needed to hear her and Jules needed to listen to her side of the story. Sooner rather than later, if there was any hope of salvaging whatever remained of their relationship.

Taking a deep breath, she rested her hand on the cool surface of the door.

“Jewell, please.” She spoke with a soft voice that carried the depth of the feeling that had brought her there. It wasn’t just the need to set things straight; it was the love she had always felt for that little girl she had wronged so badly over the years. “I know I did wrong. I know I ruined everything between us and I’m sorry, but you need to hear me out and I need to hear your side as well. Please, Jules.”

She barely had enough time to tear herself from the door before it opened rather brusquely. Blue eyes met guarded grey ones, and her voice sounded just as much when she finally spoke.

“If you insist on making a scene where everyone could hear you, that’s fine with me. After all, you seem to be quite used to having your life displayed on the media. Me, on the other hand, I have no such interest. I don’t want to be the talk of the building _and_ then be plastered on a tabloid cover with you. Enough people relate me to you as it is.”

Now that, and the way Jewell had said it, had hurt. Big time. She was going for blows all below the belt, and Zowie steeled herself, for she was sure the worse was still to come. Sidestepping her sister, she entered her flat, allowing herself a quick glance around. Modern and expensive looking, the flat and its large, open plan and decorations spoke of money poured over it like crazy, which proved her William theory. The flat and its ambiance, however, were not why she was there, so she turned around to face a sister that blatantly ignored her as she closed the door and went to sit down in an expensive looking sofa clad in grey wool. She failed to invite her to do so, but Zowie wasn’t expecting any pleasantries from her. Standing there, she stared at Jewell, knowing from the look on her face that she was dying to make the first move.

Crossing her legs very demurely and posing a manicured hand on the arm rest of the modern, large L-shaped sofa framed by a large, panelled window and the wall of exposed brick that gave the flat a rather industrial, but very hip feeling, Jewell took a good, long look at her with an expression that spoke volumes of her true intentions. As if Zowie needed any further reminders of how she had changed from that eager little girl she had left behind, and her own part in said evolution…

“You claim to know you ruined things between us, right? So, tell me, because I’m curious. How long did it take your brilliant mind to reach this astonishing conclusion? Was it as soon as you left Wellington without a single look back? Or was it before or after you dropped off the face of the Earth without giving a damn?”

Oh, yes. Jewell wanted to hurt her and she wanted it bad, and she was doing one hell of a job of it, and all Zowie could do was reach out to all those means she had got a grasp of during her rehab and hold on to them tight. Zowie needed to cling to all the good things she had achieved to counterbalance the bad things she had done in order to keep her sanity.

Zowie’s sigh was more than eloquent, and it fuelled Jewell’s conviction, if the silver glow in her grey eyes was anything to go by.

“Or was it when you put a guy no one really knew, not even yourself, above everything and everyone else, and took off, leaving me and Jared to clean up the mess you left?”

And there it was, ladies and gentleman, all laid out in the open. Jules might not realise it, but what she had just said told Zowie more than she surely expected and wanted. What bothered her sister so much were two very clear and distinctive things: one, that she had had to make herself responsible with their mum and dad for something she hadn’t done, and two, which was what brought tears to Zowie’s eyes that she promptly blinked away, was that she had left in the first place. She had left New Zealand and a sister that obviously needed her badly, and Jewell couldn’t forget nor forgive that. She resented it up to this day, and while she had never been sure Jules would see reason and her side of things, what she had just said didn’t fill her with hope either.

But she had to try, because that was what she was there for.

“I know I did wrong, Jules, but I can’t help wanting to make it better. I _want_ to make it better. I’m sorry, and I-“

“Like Hell you are!”

Jewell’s bellow caught Zowie completely by surprise. If she had thought Jewell was only hurt, she had been sorely mistaken. And at the same time, what a part of her had always anticipated proved to be right.

“I am!” She tried to reason with her sister. “I am, more than you can even begin to imagine! I know I did wrong, I know I was a complete selfish bitch when I left, but I can’t help it now. I can’t deny it, I _wanted_ to hurt people when I left, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tense, eyes blazing, Jewell sat up straight and shot back.

“Yes, you wanted to hurt _dad_. The same guy that gave you the money to go away in the first place. And you did it, Zowie… you did it well. The poor guy could never recover from that blow. You told him he was hardly a role model, remember that? You pretty much told him that everything he had done for us was crap. Can you imagine how that felt for him? You were the apple of his eye, Zowie… you still are, for Goodness’ sake!”

Those words were a blow Zowie hadn’t anticipated and that she didn’t know how to deal with. She had been ready for whatever Jewell had to throw at her when related to her own feelings, but when she referred to William, to what he felt… it affected her in ways Zowie wasn’t entirely ready to assimilate. She knew without doubt that she had hurt her father. She knew that what she had told him at the airport years ago had hit home because that was exactly what she had aimed for. But knowing that despite that, William still felt just as strongly for her as he had before… that was something she couldn’t deal with in that instant. Zowie had convinced herself for such a long time that she couldn’t forgive nor forget what her dad had done to them, that she had never considered what he might have been feeling. In fact, a part of her was sure that she had been hoping to destroy all bonds and feelings between them, for it made hating him so much easier.

And Jules’ words just confirmed her that said conviction was nothing but a big, big lie.

But that wasn’t what she needed to think of right now. Right now, Zowie needed to focus on Jewell, for any other intromission in her mind would only affect her ultimate goal. She took a step forward, but her sister’s voice stopped her dead on her tracks.

“Did you ever stop to think how it would affect us, Zowie?” Jewell said, her voice not once wavering as she spoke. “I was a kid and life at home was a mess. Mum cried all the time, and when she didn’t, she was worried sick about you. So was dad, and he beat himself up constantly for his part in this whole debacle. And the only two people there to deal with it, those who had to struggle with the weight that had so carelessly been thrown upon them, were your siblings. Your _younger_ siblings, Zowie. God, I was still at school and I couldn’t concentrate most of the time because all I could think of was what I would find when I came back home! Jay did his best, but he was away most of the time because of his studies. _I_ was there to deal with, Zowie. And I hated you for that!”

What could she possibly say to that? That she was sorry? That she regretted ruining a fourteen years old girl’s life and robbing her of the carefree state of her teenage years with her own selfishness? None of that would ever cover it. All she could do was try and explain her why she had done what she had done, and how it affected her on her own.

“Look, I know you probably won’t understand-“

“Not _probably_ , I simply won’t.”

“-but I was going through a lot, and all of it was my fault.” The derisive snort coming from the sofa told Zowie that, for once, her sister agreed, if only in part. Surely, Jules found her admission a sore understatement. “I was already doing drugs by the time I left New Zealand. I got it under control when I arrived in L.A. because everything was new and I was so excited… so excited! I thought everything was going to work out and my life would be on the path I was sure was meant for me.”

“Which involved Orlando, I’m sure.” Jules spat with malevolence.

Zowie sighed.

“Yes, it involved Orlando. Back then, I thought that, should I get my way into working in the movies, we would meet again and he would see me as a grown, independent woman and fall for me like in the movies. And no, I was none of that.” She hurried to add when a destructive gleam crossed her sister’s eyes. “I was silly and immature and he would have surely run away from me because I was a mess waiting to happen.”

The meaningful look on Jewell’s face didn’t go unnoticed to her.

“But things didn’t work out the way I expected, and why should they?” Zowie continued. “No one knew me there and there were so many others doing my job with so much more experience, that I had almost no chance, and back then I didn’t deal well when things didn’t go my way. I started doing drugs again, lost what little savings I had, I was having panic attacks… and then Matt happened.”

“Oh… is that the guy you publicly cheated on?”

Zowie’s blue eyes blazed at her. She might be a lot of things, but she had never lied to Matt about that.

“He was way out of the picture by the time Orlando came back into my life, and me cheating on him? That’s nothing but a fabricated story used to sell more papers. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, but even though he was violent with me and even reached the extreme of trying to kill me, I never cheated on him.”

It didn’t matter that Zowie had just poured her heart out for Jewell to understand if only the tiniest bit of what she had gone through; it was obvious that sympathy wasn’t something she would receive from her. And the look of utter and fake astonishment in her sister’s face? It was enough proof that not a single word she had just heard had affected her at all.

“Oh? So, as it turns out, you’re not a whore at all, but a misunderstood saint instead? Oh, wow… Phew! Now that is _such_ a relief!” Abandoning all pretence, Jewell jumped up from the sofa as her face showed her true emotions, the fake honey-coated tone dropping from her voice. “You know what? I’m sure the girls that bullied me and made fun of me at school for having a whore for a sister and that gave me the cold shoulder when the story and the pictures came out on the papers would love to hear your side of the story… Not!” Zowie’s shock at her sister’s revelations must have shown on her face, for Jewell took a step forward as she carried on as mercilessly as she had attacked her since she had set foot in that flat. “They put me through Hell, Zowie, and all because of you! I tried to keep what was going on with you a secret and then… bam! It was all over the papers.

They all found out you’re slut _and_ a junky, and they had a field day with it. Every day your stupid face appeared somewhere was another day I was tormented by them. So tell me, how can you honestly think I will ever see eye to eye with you, after all I went through? You were always a manipulative bitch, but you outdid yourself with your disappearing act. Jay and I were always at your shadow, but when you fell off the face of the Earth? That was just insane, and Jay and I had to clean up your mess. There was never any time for us, Zowie, because worrying about you took up most of everyone’s time. Who gave a damn about me being bullied in school? Who gave a damn when I cried myself to sleep? Who gave a damn when there was not a single minute left to spare for me, damn it!”

Up until that moment, Zowie had been sure she knew exactly what was wrong with Jewell. She thought her problem was that she was angry and resented at her sister for being so selfish, but now… now the truth glared at her in all its ugly glory, impossible to ignore. That was a part of it, yes… but there was so much more going on that she had never imagined! Jewell felt abandoned and unimportant, and it was all Zowie’s fault.

How could she possibly make up for everything she had done to her sister? She was willing to do anything, but one thing was certain in her mind.

She couldn’t budge. Jewell had accused her of being manipulative, but that whole speech she had just given her? It was born out of pain, of course, but what Jules didn’t realise, was that she was pulling the exact same thing she accused her of. The grief and the resentment had spurred her on, but the way she had voiced her feelings, there was a hurtful determination in them, and Zowie couldn’t very well let Jewell trample over everything she had achieved and how much she had grown up simply out of spite. She knew that, for she had done it herself in the past. Jules was shooting to kill, but Zowie was just as stubborn, and refused to let it hit home.

So squaring her shoulders, Zowie straightened her spine to stop the blows from getting to her, and then steeled herself for what she was about to say.

“I came here to tell you how sorry I was. Now I know things happened that go beyond my knowledge of what I thought I had done, and it’s obvious there’s nothing I can do to make it better because _you_ don’t want things to be better between us. I came here to talk as adults, Jewell, not for us to tear each other’s throats! If you won’t listen, if you insist on acting like a brat, then I’m out. I already stood enough abuse in the past to allow myself to be put in that position one more time. Just let me make one thing very clear, though: if you want to spew your crap at me, that’s fine. I can handle it. But do it to _me_ , without mum watching. She has already had enough as it is.”

Jules’ shock at Zowie’s impassioned speech, at the strength she had shown in her words, was short-lived, and it vanished before her older sister could say anything else.

“Oh, yes? And whose fault is that, mine? Hell, no! If mum has gone through enough, it’s only thanks to you!” Taking a deep breath, her nostrils flared as her grey eyes blazed with rage. “We were doing so well when you were away, Zowie… _I_ was doing so well! Why on Earth did you have to come back and ruin everything for me all over again?”

Zowie’s outwardly calmed demeanour didn’t change one bit, but inside, her heart thundered in her chest, and her answer tumbled out of her lips before she could even consider it.

“I came back because I love you, Jules, and I just wanted you to know that.”

Zowie didn’t allow Jules a chance to response or to even utter another word. Without a single look back, she stalked towards the door and, just as Jewell exploded to motion behind her, she opened the door, closing it quickly behind her and putting an effective end to whatever argument remained.

She understood Jules’ pain, but she wasn’t going to put herself in the receiving end of her rancour. One thing she had learnt over the years, was what she was worth and how to put herself first. Let Jules simmer in her own anger and dark feelings; she wasn’t going to let her drag her into it. She had tried, that much she could say. She had learnt things she didn’t know, but so had Jules, and Zowie had asked for forgiveness. Now it was Jewell’s turn to be a grown up and decide what she wanted to do. In Zowie’s part, at the least, she could now go back to her mum’s house and tell her she had tried.

Jewell, however, couldn’t say the same.

And as she closed the door to that fancy building behind her, Zowie took a deep breath and let the sun wash over her, erasing all traces of the dark feelings that had crept inside her at the argument she had just had. She couldn’t make herself responsible for what other people thought, she told herself as she walked. She could only respond for her own actions and feelings. And now, all she wanted to do was hold on to all those things that filled her life with light and happiness, so she set course back to Noemie’s, knowing that the people there would be, at the very least, far more welcoming than Jewell.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 29.**

_“Oh, it's such a perfect day_

_I'm glad I spent it with you_

_Oh, such a perfect day_

_You just keep me hanging on_

_You just keep me hanging on_

_You're going to reap just what you sow”_

**Duran Duran – Perfect Day**

When Orlando parked the car, he took his time to kill the engine, all the while staring at the house on the other side of the street. The dark wood that adorned the exterior and the light turquoise details on the window frames hadn’t changed one bit in the years he had been away, and as he stepped out of the car, he could have sworn he was taken back to a time when he was younger, much younger, and his life was full of promises that would or wouldn’t be eventually fulfilled.

“It looks exactly the same.” He murmured in awe, slipping his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and soaking in the soft, warm breeze and the sun that made that afternoon such a lovely one.

Gentle arms surrounded his waist, a soft body pressing itself against his back as its owner posed a light kiss on his spine.

“Laugh all you want, but the more I stare at it, the more I feel like a younger, thinner, Mohawk-ed version of yourself will walk out anytime soon.”

Zowie’s voice as she took a peek around his body brought a smile to his lips, because yes, a younger, thinner and Mohawk-ed version of himself had walked out of that house to welcome her countless times while he lived in Wellington shooting _Rings_. A version of him that was having the time of his life and hadn’t wanted to see how much that eager and beautiful young girl would change his entire life. A young girl that would eventually become a woman, turn his world upside down, and would ultimately show him that he could probably live his life without her in it, but that he simply didn’t want to.

“Remember that time, in the middle of winter, that we dared Dom to walk right out and into the sea naked?”

Orlando’s question brought a smile to Zowie’s lips as her hands caressed his well-toned abs.

“ _Almost_ naked.” She hurried to point out, wiping her long hair over her shoulder so the breeze wouldn’t blow it on her face. “Younger Sean convinced you guys that Dom should keep his boxer shorts on, in attention to my innocent eyes. What he never realised though, was that Dom would have to, eventually, come _out_ of the water. Soaking wet. If you know what I mean.”

Orlando’s dark eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline and he eyed her over his shoulder with a shocked look.

“Well, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do, right?” Zowie said unapologetically with a carefree lift of her shoulders. “You can’t just go blindly into things, right? Not that I had never seen a naked guy before.”

Shocked at such revelation, Orlando turned on his heels so fast, she let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“There’s this thing called Internet, Orlando… And it already existed _before_ the lot of you came into my life. Brooke and I might have Googled a thing or two out of curiosity.” There was such stupefaction on his face that Zowie couldn’t help but shake her head as a big smile played on her lips. “You too were a teenager once, Orlando.”

“Yes, but I’m a guy, and sex is all we think about from ages twelve to sixty. Girls, however…”

“Girls what?” Zowie asked, arching an eyebrow, as if daring him to speak the words he had been about to say.

Under her scrutiny, Orlando struggled for a while trying to find the right answer before finally saying.

“Well, I thought girls got curious too, but I don’t know… maybe in a different way?”

Zowie laughed heartedly at his clueless answer.

“There aren’t many ways to be curious about sex, are they, Orlando? We girls have something that’s different from yours and it’s only natural we want to how what it is. And _how_ it is. Speculation will often lead you nowhere until you see the real thing.”

Having overcome his initial awe, Orlando’s hands sneaked around her waist so he could pull her as close as it was physically possible and he sketched a sly grin that made all alarms go off in her head.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did you manage to sneak a peek at Dom coming out of the water?”

Zowie huffed.

“No… he was extra careful to cover any incriminating bits from my innocent but very curious eyes. Might have probably been the one time he took my so called _innocence_ into consideration, though. Damn him.”

His laughter echoed so freely around them, and so loud, it scared a seagull that milled lazily nearby into suddenly taking flight; not without cawing angrily at Orlando first for disturbing its peaceful time contemplating the sea. His hilarity died down eventually, and when it did, his lips slowly descended on Zowie’s for a lazy kiss, enjoying the closeness they shared so freely now.

It was liberating to hug her, kiss her, show the world that he loved her. Sure, there was that ever present danger of paparazzi trying to snap a picture of them, and although they had never breeched the subject, there was an implicit deal that they wouldn’t spend their entire lives hiding. Having tried it once already, and having seen how big a disaster it could turn out to be, neither Zowie nor Orlando wanted a repeat performance of the experience. Besides, he imagined that, should they be seen together often and living the life any other young couple lived, eventually the interest in them would die down. After all, if everyone simply ignored the sordid articles printed about them and their past… Orlando could have laughed out loud once again. Right… as if that would _ever_ happen!

The kiss ended slowly, gently, and when it did, Orlando kept his arms around Zowie, holding her close and feeling the soft breeze blow her hair around them until it tickled his arms as they circled her shoulders. His chin rested on the top of her head as his eyes concentrated on the mountains on the other side of the sea for a while before he slowly brought her around so he had an unspoiled view of his old home.

They had been right; not much had changed in that house with dark wood cladding and a privileged view of Worser Bay. Orlando had loved every moment spent in that house. And what was there not to love? The sea was right across the street, a dream come true for a nature-loving guy such as himself. The hill the house was settled on was full of vegetation, and he distinctively remembered hearing birds humming and singing there that he had never heard before. While living there, that place had become the centre of many a social activity with his cast mates, and the woman he held in his arms, while still a young girl, had also spent long hours there with him, sometimes walking down the beach a short distance away, others simply staring out the window when weather didn’t allow any outdoorsy activities.

Memories swirled in his mind of the times they had shared, but the one his treacherous mind decided to stick to, was a hazy one he had thought a dream for long years until Zowie had taken him out of his ignorance. He remembered kissing her, having her in his arms… long before it happened in what he thought was real life. But that scene, the one that lingered in his mind, filling his heart with dread, was just as real; he had just denied its existence until confronted with the truth. A scene that had taken place in that very house.

“I’m sorry.” He said all of a sudden, his heart heavy with a guilt he doubted would ever really go away.

Without stepping away from him, Zowie raised her face to look up at him, confusion painted in her every feature.

“Sorry? What for?” Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously before adding. “Have you done something naughty I don’t know of?”

When his face didn’t falter, when that same dark emotion that clouded it didn’t vanish at her joke, Zowie’s heart skipped a beat with worry as alarm rose to life inside her.

“Orlando? What… what’s going on? What are you talking about?”

He closed his eyes briefly, letting out a loud, pained sigh before he finally seemed to find the courage to open them once again and look down at her.

“I’m talking about that night… the night of your first time.” His voice was low, thick, as if emotion weighed down on him now that he had voiced his thoughts. And hearing what he had to say, Zowie had no doubt what actually plagued him. “Being here, standing in front of this house, it brought it all back. I still don’t remember it all and it drives me crazy, but thinking everything it did to you, how much it hurt you… how much _I_ hurt you…”

At Orlando’s obvious distress, Zowie’s heart bled with sadness and love for him. It didn’t matter how long a time had passed or how strongly she reassured him that she didn’t blame him for her botched first time, he still felt guilty about it. She imagined that, should she be in his place, she too would feel that way and wouldn’t be easy to convince her of the opposite, but the love she felt for him pushed Zowie into trying yet once again. Just like she would try as many times as it was necessary until Orlando finally understood that the only person doing something wrong that night, had been her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and her hands, until then wrapped around his lean waist, struggled to slip between their tightly pressed bodies until they managed to take Orlando’s handsome, yet troubled face between them.

“You never hurt me, Orlando.” She said, her voice earnest and full of hope. He needed to understand that that night hadn’t been his fault, so she put her heart in her every word. “What happened was that I hurt myself. _I_ put myself in that position and you had no saying in the matter. I don’t know what it is that you have convinced yourself to believe about that night, but you didn’t bring me home against my will, neither did you seduce me or anything like that for that matter.”

Orlando began to shake his head as words stumbled from his lips.

“But I should have known! I shouldn’t have been so drunk. If I’d only known I was forcing myself upon you, I-“

“What?” Zowie’s shock was obvious in her voice. She wanted to take a step back so she could look up at him more comfortably, hoping to get her point across more clearly, but she could see Orlando needed her close; as close as it was possible to overcome his doubts and guilt. “You never forced yourself upon me! And I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. I was so blind, Orlando… so obsessed, so desperate for affection after everything that had happened with my dad, that I wanted what little escape you could give me, even in that state. So I clung to you, hoping you would make everything right without realising that it was me who had to make things better for myself. And still, I’m not sorry. I will never be sorry for what happened that night. I should have done it for different reasons and not because I needed love, but it was never your fault. So, if I’m not sorry, then neither should you. I love you, Orlando… I even loved you back then, when I didn’t really know how, and all I imagined was that you would take me away from all the confusion in my life.”

He was moved by her words, and it didn’t take an expert on reading people to see that. Not that Zowie was anything like that, but even her, who had been so blind for so long, could see the struggle in those dark eyes she loved so much as he tried to reconcile what he had just heard with the mental picture he had obviously built of the situation a long time ago. Doubt was strong in his eyes, clouding their usual light with a dullness that pierced Zowie’s heart and that she despised the instant she saw it there. But there was in them a will to believe in her also, and Zowie clung to it with her heart and soul. If she could make Orlando see, if he could understand where she came from, then the last cloud that lingered between them would disappear forever, and she looked forward to a life with him where nothing cast a shadow over their bliss.

“We can’t spend our entire lives feeling sorry for that night, Orlando.” She whispered softly, her thumbs lightly caressing his chiselled cheekbones. “Tell me, do you ever feel sorry for the day you broke your back?”

Orlando’s confusion was obvious in his eyes when he looked at her, but Zowie would grasp at anything she could to help her point come across the thick wall of his guilt.

“Well, no.” He said. “But mostly because nothing happened and, eventually, I ended up learning a great deal about what I wanted and how to take better care of myself. Hadn’t I recovered, however…” A shiver ran through his body. He rarely tortured himself with such thoughts, but when they ultimately did make it to his mind, Orlando couldn’t help but feel a trickle of dread down his spine. He would have most likely lost more than his mobility; he feared he would have pretty much lost his will to live.

But he hadn’t, and Zowie’s train of thought puzzled him.

“Where are you going with this?”

Zowie sketched a small smile at the confusion that was written in his every feature.

“Well, it’s not the same, of course… but in a way, both events have some things in common.”

“Such as?” Orlando felt rather reluctant to admit her failed first time and his accident had much in common, but was going to give her the chance to explain herself regardless.

“Just like you don’t feel sorry about that day because you learned a lot about yourself, neither do I regret that night for the very same reason.” She explained, her hands moving from his cheeks and down his neck until they rested on his chest, his charms resting between them. “My learning process was certainly much slower than yours, but in the end, I too learned a lot about myself. I realised I was desperate for love and attention. That I was lost and had absolutely no idea where to go or what to do next. That I felt I had no one to talk to, when I actually did… I was just too blind to see them, because I had blinded myself to anything and everything that weren’t my own problems. I was looking for a solution or a way out where I shouldn’t have. _You_ weren’t the solution to any of my problems, just like drugs weren’t either. _I_ was the solution to my problems, and that was the lesson I learned that night.” She smiled, her head tilting as an ironic expression took over her face. “Well, not _that_ night. But when I realised I had, without even realising it, loaded you with my issues, I took a step back and tried to work things out on my own.”

Orlando’s eyes pinned her with a stare that was at the same time questioning and disbelieving, and she would have lost herself in them, hadn’t the topic they breached been so utterly serious.

“Why? Why did you never think of sharing those problems with me while I was here?”

Zowie shrugged at first, as if she didn’t know the answer, but truth was, she knew it very, very well.

“I guess I wanted someone to just _see_ what I was going through without having to spell it out? I was so selfish I wanted people to see my problems above their own, and prioritise them nevertheless. So, when instead of spilling it out, I kept it all bottled in, it was only a matter of time until everything blew up on my face. But still I don’t regret what happened that night or my part in it. Neither do I blame for it.” When she sketched one of those smiles she used to give him back in the day, Orlando should have known something was coming, but the bomb she dropped on his lap, however, was nothing he could have expected. “So now that we have cleared it out that you didn’t force yourself upon me… and since you don’t remember much, you _have_ to trust me, because you know I wouldn’t lie to you… I think it is time we call things by their name and accept the fact that, if we’re talking about anyone forcing themselves upon anyone, then I should take the blame for taking advantage of you while you were drunk.”

Very few things could have thrown Orlando so off balance in that minute as Zowie’s words did. They were having a heart to heart, they were tackling probably the last somewhat unsolved issue between them, and she told him _that_? It took him long seconds of blinking in utter shock to finally articulate one single word.

“What?”

Zowie could see that a part of Orlando thought she was joking about something so important, and while she had indeed meant it as a way to begin lightening a mood between that had suddenly turned much too sombre, she had found it the only way to tackle a matter that might seem ludicrous, but that was also undeniable.

“Isn’t it true?” She said, serious now. “You were drunk and I knew it. Of course my intentions at first were a hundred per cent honourable, but I should have known nothing good would come out of it in your state. But still I did it when I should have done the right thing, which was leave you there and walk away. I didn’t, and when you reacted, well… I acted on it. Even though I shouldn’t have. So there, there you have it. You didn’t take advantage of me. _I_ did.”

Out of the million things Zowie could have told him, _that_ was the one Orlando could have never even begun to imagine would come out of her lips. She had taken advantage of _him_? That was simply ridiculous. He could see where she came from, sure, but to think that an eighteen year old girl could have forced him seemed a bit far-fetched as far as he was concerned.

Yet, as her words passed the barrier of incredulity and slowly began to sink in, Orlando couldn’t deny Zowie had spoken some truths. He was drunk that night. And he was young, with everything it entitled. Zowie happened to be there, willingly accepting his advances, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He wasn’t thinking, period; there had been no cognitive process that night after the third shot of whatever it was that they were having with the other guys. Zowie happened the be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and whatever encourage came from her might have sparked whatever happened later… still, Orlando couldn’t quite come to terms with the idea. It had nothing to do with chauvinism and most likely a lot to do with stubbornness, but if it made her happy thinking she had actually forced, then he could live with that. As long as he was sure she forgave him for her part in the whole debacle.

Tilting his head just like Zowie had some minutes ago, brown eyes stared into blue ones as he asked the question that burned his lips in its eagerness to come out.

“If I tell you I believe you _forced_ me...” He encircled the word with quoting marks made with his fingers, earning himself a roll of her eyes. “Will you tell me you forgive me for being a complete idiot that night?”

Shaking her head at Orlando’s stubborn insistence on being at fault for nearly everything and anything, Zowie once again slid her arms around his lean waist as she nodded softly and almost ceremoniously.

“I do. I forgive you.”

Such simple words, yet so necessary for Orlando! They meant the world to him, and hearing them coming from her lips was nearly overwhelming. For years guilt had weighed so heavily on Orlando, sometimes it didn’t allow him to breathe freely and at ease. Now that it wasn’t there, however, that Zowie herself had banished it from his heart and soul, he truly felt free for once and for all. Free to be breathe, free to be happy, and free to love Zowie the way she deserved.

“But, should you ever feel like _forcing_ me again…”

At that, Zowie burst out laughing and, capturing his lips with hers, she gave him a long kiss that ended with his lower lip between her teeth in a gesture that promised pleasures Orlando was more than eager to try.

“It does sound tempting, but what do you say we take a walk around first, and then see what happens?” She wriggled her eyebrows at him and Orlando snickered, patting her behind.

“I call that a promise. You better deliver.” He pointed out with a stern expression on his face that couldn’t possibly be any more pretended.

With the wink of an eye, Zowie said.

“Always.”

Taking his hand in hers, Zowie deftly stepped away from him before he could delay her any longer, and began to walk, leading the way with a smiling Orlando trailing behind. He soon caught up with her, though, and after giving his old house a last glance over his shoulder, he threw an arm around Zowie’s as they made their slow way northwards on Marine Parade. The house was important, it held more memories than he could possibly count and would always make a valuable part of his past, but the woman who confidently pressed her warm body against him… she was his future. And just like she had said countless times, dwelling on the past never did a person much good. He bid farewell to that part of his life, knowing he would forever cherish it in his heart, but knowing it could no longer define his existence; neither his artistic nor his personal one.

~*~

The sun was warm on the beach, and the breeze was barely perceptible on their spot as Orlando and Zowie sat near the shore in Worser Bay, her doodling on the sand, him tangling loosely long strands of her dark blond hair around his fingers. He was so glad they had decided to take that time for themselves, to be solely in each other’s company and just relax and think of nothing more pressing than the here and now. But, above all, that they had found the time and the place to talk. No one rushed them or pushed them into anything at Noemie’s, but neither Zowie nor Orlando felt particularly inclined to bring some problems to the table when the woman was around. She had taken them under her wing, had given them a place to stay for as long as they wanted, and had helped them with anything they could possibly require. Would it be fair of them to bring her any more problems than she had already experienced at their expense?

And they needed to talk. So many things had happened since arriving in Wellington and so many others would happen still, that Orlando needed to know where Zowie stood with all these new things life threw at her. She seemed firm and strong, but still, the only way Orlando could truly know what was in her heart was if she opened it to him, and the only way for that to happen was getting her to talk. If only he just knew how to breech the subject in an easy, harmless way…

Yet, was there such a way, when the subject was so close to their hearts and had affected her more than he could comprehend, even still after all this time?

The answer was no, sadly. All Orlando could do was to be forward and as harmless as his heart desired.

“Well… is this trip back home everything you hoped it would be?”

Zowie remained still, her head on his shoulder just as before. There was a brief stilling of her finger as her doodle on the sand met a sudden and apparent end, but it continued a brief instant later as she let out a long and prolonged sigh.

“Oh, yes. And I’m sure it will still bring a whole lot more before we leave this place.”

“Even more so?” Orlando’s fake surprised tone was met with a soft laugh from her, and she looked up from her spot, her blue eyes clear and, despite the seriousness of the matter, free of troubles and shadows.

“So many things happened here, Orlando… I made so many decisions and they affected so many people… of course a part of me wishes I had never done them, but it’s useless to regret such things now. And while facing everyone has certainly shaken everything up for me, I think that, looking at it right now, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just wish that this, while improving things for me, doesn’t make things worse for the others.”

Orlando looked down at her. He didn’t speak a word, but he was sure the question was written in his eyes and was plain for her to see. Zowie sighed, her eyes drifting to the bay before them.

“When I started taking drugs, it was to run away from all the troubles I truly had and the ones I thought I had.” She said. “I did have problems at home, nothing was going the way I hoped, and then there was the fact that I was convinced that you _had_ to love me, and when that didn’t happen, I had built myself so high thinking it would be true, that the fall had to be hard. So when nothing at home went back to the way it used to be, when I couldn’t forget what my dad had done to us, and when I saw that you didn’t love me the way I thought you did, disaster was bound to happen.”

Orlando’s eyes too drifted to the sea, and the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

“So, in a way, I too am responsible for your addiction.”

It took Zowie a few seconds to register what Orlando had truly said, but when she did, her head shot up from its position and she gaped at him.

“Orlando…”

“Let’s not have a repeat of the conversation down there.” He said, pointing over his shoulder at his old house not too far away. His tone wasn’t stern, but it was firm, and it silenced all of Zowie’s possible complains. “Some things are undeniable, Zowie, and there’s no point on wasting time trying to make them what they’re not. You even just said it yourself, and I’m not mad about it. I know I had a part in this. Had I been straightforward instead of such an idiot, you wouldn’t have built your hopes so high just to have them crash down as I led you on. I am, in part, to blame for this, and although I promise not to torture myself for that in the future, I won’t allow you to deny my participation in this either. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, Zowie. So, so sorry… had I known back then what I know now, how much I loved you even in those days, I swear I wouldn’t have put you through so much.”

“But you had to leave anyway. And no matter how hard you tried to make things easier for me when the time came, I would still end up feeling sad and missing you like crazy when you went back to England.” Zowie’s soft and heartfelt words succeeded on dragging Orlando out of his commiseration.

“Yes, but at least things would have been clear and straight out in the open from the very beginning. None of this would have happened.”

There was a logic in Orlando’s words that Zowie couldn’t deny. Had things been said, had everything been clear from the start, perhaps she could have handled things better because honesty would have been the main component of their relationship. The way things had unfolded, however, honesty had been the last thing on either of their minds, and now they were dealing with the consequences. And because none of them had been able to put honesty, truth and openness forward in the earliest stages of their relationship so long ago, when Orlando said he felt he had a part in her decision to start taking drugs, Zowie couldn’t deny it. She had felt so devastated when he didn’t react the way she had expected that the only way to deal with that disappointment was taking a pill. Nevertheless, she couldn’t let him take all the blame for her mistakes.

“When I first took drugs in that club, it was because I couldn’t accept that things weren’t how I wanted them to be. I did feel devastated because you didn’t remember a single thing, but how whimsical is it that I couldn’t deal with things the first time they turned out wrong for me? It was a completely selfish and childish decision, if there was ever any. But ultimately, the decision was mine, and mine alone. _I_ accepted that first pill and _I_ took it to my mouth. No one forced me.” Her eyes left his for a brief instant, and when they met again, there was a spark of humour in them, even if a tiny little one. “I suppose this _is_ indeed a repeat of the scene back there.” She added, cocking her head in the direction his thumb had pointed at some minutes ago.

“I’m sorry.”

When it came, Orlando’s whisper was so soft and so full of regret, it was barely audible, and it weighed heavily on Zowie’s heart.

“So am I.” She whispered back. Her forehead came to rest against his, and they spent long moments like that, sharing the understanding silence of truths finally laid out in the open after so long.

And the silence lasted for a long time, longer than any of them cared to measure, and when it ended, when words flowed again, things felt light and easy between them; lighter and easier in a way that made their hearts feel free of whatever guilt had lingered there until then.

Zowie talked about Jewell, about how she felt she had done the right thing in telling her sister off on what she considered childish behaviour. How she understood where Jules came from, but how she couldn’t allow it to hurt Noemie any further, and how she would stand her ground no matter what. They talked about Jared, and how glad she was for his support and his understanding, and how she had felt a part of her was missing when she had pushed him out of her life while in America. When the time came to talk about William, however, Zowie’s tone was softer, and loaded with doubt.

“I honestly don’t know what to do.” She let out a loud and prolonged sigh as the matter ran rampant in her mind. “I mean… I know what is the _right_ thing to do, but I really don’t know whether I have it in me to do such thing. I know I have to… I’m just not sure I _want_ to do it at all.”

Orlando had the feeling he had heard it all when it came to Zowie’s and William’s dilemma, mainly because he wanted to help her any way he could, but this development? It was most certainly new and unexpected.

“Is there such a thing as the right thing to do in life?” He asked, his hand softly running up and down her arm, pulling her even closer.

“According to every person in the world and my counsellor, yes, there is. Well, maybe not according to Rebecca.” She said, referring to her counsellor back in Prescott. “But still… you can’t deny that making things up with my father would make everyone happy.”

“But what about you? Would it make _you_ happy in any way?”

Zowie shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“That’s the big question I have about this whole thing.” Unfurling her legs from under her body before they grew numb, Zowie stretched them out before her, and she sank her toes in the sand before wriggling them out. “My dad is the number one reason why this disaster came to happen in the first place. Had he had what it takes to come out and tell us the truth about his secret life, then it wouldn’t have been so secret anymore, and maybe, just maybe, I would have been able to deal with it differently from the very beginning. But since he handled it all wrong, he lied to everyone and pretended to have ended things when that wasn’t the case, I took the easy way out.” She stopped for a second, as if realising of something before carrying on. “But then again, it’s not like he forced me to take a pill or anything. Just like he didn’t force me to act like a completely ungrateful bitch when I tricked him into giving me the money to fly to America.” Her brief instant of silence spoke volumes. “It turns out Jewell wasn’t completely wrong about things, and I _am_ the bane of this family.”

Orlando turned on his spot so quickly that Zowie, who had until then been resting against him, would have fallen flat on her face on the sand, hadn’t he caught her by the shoulders.

“You are _not_ the bane of this family, you hear me? Was it you who made your dad lie in the first place?”

His words were intent and heartfelt, but the implications of the question were undeniable to Zowie.

“Well, he did come back to us because he missed us, and you know how my dad was with me… I always had him in the palm of my hand.”

Orlando shook his head, frustrated with her logic.

“Tell me, Zow… how old were you when it all happened? Two years old, three maybe?” When she nodded in agreement, Orlando carried on. “Maybe it’s me, but I fail to see how a child that age, little more than a baby, could have forced anyone into doing anything other than buying her an ice cream or something like that.”

The truth in Orlando’s statement was irrefutable, no matter how much Zowie’s stubborn streak tried to argue it.

“I suppose when you look at it that way…”

His hands caressed her shoulders as he stared deep into her eyes.

“The way I see things, Zowie, this matter? You never had a saying in it. This was purely a matter between grownups and their own issues and you and your brothers were thrown in the middle of it, and there was never much any of you could do about it. And yes, you did have your dad wrapped around your little finger, I remember that well… and you certainly always managed to get away with murder when he was around. However, have you ever stopped to think that the reason why such thing happened was because _he_ allowed it in the first place? No one can force anyone into doing anything they don’t want to do, and least of all can a two year old achieve that. What your dad did, what he allowed you to do all your life, was because _he_ felt guilty. Not because you did anything wrong, but simply because he felt so horribly guilty about everything that was going on. When he gave you that money, it was because he thought it would put him back in your favour, so in the end, if you feel you used him, then he used you just as well. The two of you definitely have things to regret, but it’s not just you, Zowie. It’s not just you.”

What he so desperately tried to make her understand, to reach her brain as well as her heart, was that Zowie wasn’t entirely to blame for every wrong thing that had taken place in her family. She had her share of mistakes on her shoulders and that was undeniable, but to be at blame for everything in her family? That seemed hardly fair in his eyes.

Zowie struggled with that concept. She could see what Orlando meant and why he did it, but she could also see the truth in his reasoning, and the implications raised uneasiness in her heart. She had spent years blaming William for everything and anything that had gone wrong in her life, just to then make a 180° turn and start wondering whether things weren’t her fault.

But above all, what such thing meant was that both Zowie herself and William had made mistakes, and there was no use on pointing fingers for there wasn’t a sole culprit that could be called out. That, above everything else, shook her to the core. Having spent years blinded, she hadn’t let her true feelings surface because she didn’t know how to deal with them, and those feelings were simple: despite everything that had happened, despite the pain and the lies, Zowie still loved William. Problem was, she didn’t feel a particular proclivity to share such discovery with him, for it put her in a most vulnerable position, and considering her history and her past, nothing good came out when she felt that way.

When she shared her feelings with Orlando, she left nothing behind, knowing that, given his own family’s history, he was most likely the right person to understand what she felt in her heart.

“It’s just that I’m not entirely sure that seeing him will be the right thing to do, that it will do any good.” She said, eyes lost on the sea before them and mirroring its clear blue. “I’m still mad at him in some aspects and a part of me _wants_ to stay mad at him, because I’m not quite sure he deserves to be forgiven for them… but on the other hand, I’m not sure how I will handle seeing him, because I fear I will forgive him for everything he’s done to us without a second though. I’m not sure he deserves that, Orlando, and I don’t know whether I’m quite prepared to discover I’m not as mad with my dad as I originally thought, you know?”

There, she had said it. The one thing she feared about the most was now out in the open, and sharing it with Orlando had succeeded on making it all the more real to her. And it making it all the more real made facing it felt both more urgent and more dreadful at the same time.

Taking her hand in his and tracing her fingernails with the tip of his finger, Orlando spoke softly, as if he feared anything harsher would spook her. God, how much did she love him!

“Well, given the way everything played out in the past, I don’t think it’s that odd to feel that way. You held a grudge for so long, you thought that way was the right way to feel about things, that now that you start to think differently, it’s scary. Nevertheless, I think you should give it a try, you know?”

Zowie gave him a sideways look.

“I should give what a try?”

“Seeing him.” Orlando answered matter-of-factly. “You can’t know what will happen after that, but you should at least give yourself the chance. Not for him, but for you. You know what I mean?”

Yes, in fact, Zowie did understand what he meant, but none of that made her any more comfortable with the prospect. She could see the right in Orlando’s words, but that part of her, no matter how small, that she had discovered still clung to some of her old insecurities and grudges, refused to give in so easily.

“I won’t push it. I suppose I’ll do it one day, but I can’t say it’ll be today or tomorrow. But I promise one thing or another will happen before we go back home.”

Something in her words made Orlando’s ear perk, and with his heart beating a little faster in his chest, he returned the sideways look Zowie had given him just seconds ago.

“Back home?”

His question was simple, soft, and the uncertainty that hinted in his voice touched Zowie’s heart. This was a subject they hadn’t discussed so far, and given the heart to heart they had been having since sitting in that beach in Worser Bay, Zowie decided it might as well carry on being that way.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure where home is right now, but one thing I know, as much as I love New Zealand and as much as I enjoy being here with my mum and my brother, I don’t think Wellington is my place in the world right now. Don’t get me wrong.” She hurried to point out. “I love this city and I have missed it like crazy, but I want to be somewhere else.” Lifting her gaze to his, she added. “And that is wherever you are. If you’ll have me, of course.”

When Orlando didn’t answer straight away, and his expression didn’t give anything away, Zowie’s heart dropped a little.

“I know it’s a little presumptuous of me to think that you will have me, but I feel it’s time to start building a new home for myself. I can do it wherever I want, I know that now, and while I wouldn’t mind going back to the job I had in Prescott, I think I should widen my horizons a bit, you know? I owe people there a lot, but like here in Wellington, I think I have outgrown these places. I feel strong and confident enough to try and fulfil my dreams, but I really, really think everything would be better and nicer if you were there to share it with me.”

Zowie managed to finish her impassioned speech, and while she hoped for the best and at the same time prepared herself for the worse, what she hadn’t expected was to have her lips captured in a passionate, intense and, above all, joyous kiss and then be toppled on her back and sink in the sand when Orlando’s warm body pressed her with all his weight. It was a wordless answer, but it had her heart thumping with excitement all the same.

“Is that a yes?” She managed to whisper the moment Orlando saw it fit to part his lips from hers, both breathing raggedly as brown eyes glowed with a joy that surely matched that in her own blue gaze.

Orlando’s smile dazzled her, exactly the same way it had so long ago.

“That, in fact, is a _hell yes_ kind of answer.” He murmured fervently, his hands taking her face between them. “Whatever you do, wherever you go, I want to be there with you. I want to have you there with me every step of the way. Wherever that is. I love you.”

This time, it was Zowie who took Orlando by surprise. She didn’t manage to flip him over on his back, simply because he seemed to be enjoying himself way too much and refused to give in, but that didn’t stop her from giving him a kiss that rivalled his in intensity and passion. What Orlando’s declaration meant to her… it meant the world. It meant they had a future together, that he too wanted her in his life and that this was forever. Or for as long as they would have each other. And that, for a woman who had lived the last few years of her life drowning in uncertainty and insecurities, meant the grounding she had so desperately needed all those years, and Zowie was willing to fight with all her might to keep that in her life.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 30**

Running errands with Noemie was always interesting, to say the least. And fun too, when you actually thought about it. Going grocery shopping with her made Zowie feel like she was ten years old all over again, only that, this time, she wasn’t pestering her mum to buy her junk food she knew Noemie would never take back home. This time, Zowie could purchase junk food to her heart’s content and sit in front of the TV and pig out if she felt like it. Thing was, that wasn’t her. Not that she didn’t like junk food just like the next person – she just didn’t have it in her to sit in front of the TV all day long. She had just recently taken it to jog in the mornings, because while being at Noemie’s was great, the inactivity was beginning to make her feel restless. Orlando would join her every once in a while, but he had mellowed out some since his hyperactive days of the past. Perhaps _mellow out_ wasn’t the right term, Zowie mused with a tiny grin as she followed her mother down the fruit aisle. He was still just as active and could put her need for physical action to shame, she just imagined Wellington’s uneven terrain might intimidate him just a bit. It was one thing to be born in it and having dealt with it her entire life, but facing it when you were used to the complete opposite… she got the idea.

“Oh, honey… could you get those crackers I brought home last week, the ones I liked so much? We just passed that aisle but I completely forgot about them.”

Zowie nodded in agreement. Maybe, just maybe, she would get some junk food for her and her boyfriend in the way.

“Sure.” She said. “Anything else?”

Noemie thought in silence for a moment, her eyes tipping skywards as she mentally went over her shopping list. For a moment, Zowie wondered what it was like for her mum to go from cooking and managing a house of five, to find herself on her own, to now, all of a sudden, have two full time guests to tend to. Zowie herself was used to being on her own, shopping for one, cooking for one… it was on a rare occasion that she had guests until Orlando came back to her life, and even then, they hadn’t spent that long at her place. How would she handle doing it for two? Perhaps it was time to start paying closer attention to what her mum did and how she did it and learn some tips from her.

“No, I think that is about it. I’ll wait for you here.”

Zowie shook her head and dismissed her mum’s offer with a wave of her hand.

“No, carry on… I never got lost in a supermarket before, I don’t plan to start doing it now. Just keep your ears open in case someone comes through the speakers looking for a mum.”

Noemie shook her head at her bad joke and sent her off with a wave as she threw herself to the task of testing every apple in existence for the correct point of ripeness. Leaving her mother to such gruelling task – one she seemed to enjoy rather particularly – Zowie walked back on her steps, turning on one corner and then the other until she found the aisle she was looking for. She found the crackers almost straight away, but all that thinking about junk food had given her a sudden and rather unexpected craving for something sweet, so she was perusing the fun part of the aisle – the one laden with sugar and other substances that would most likely shorten her lifespan if consumed daily and in great amounts – trying to make up her mind on whether she should bring home the extra-large pack of Oreos that had caught her eye or plain chocolate cookies, when a voice beside her dragged her from her inner culinary debate.

“Zowie? Zowie Hart?”

At the sound of her name, Zowie stiffened, her hand curling dangerously around the pack of crackers as she considered her options. She had been followed once when going out for a jog, and her unwanted companions had only fallen behind and left her alone when they realised she planned to do nothing more exciting than jogging down the shoreline near her mum’s place. Of course, for someone who had posed nearly naked years ago, no matter how artistic those pictures were meant to be, and that had been first portrayed in the media as a two-timing, lying slut leading Orlando on, she imagined those journalists of questionable reputation hoped she would strip naked there in the middle of the street, or simply meet with another man that wasn’t Orlando. Would they be as adventurous as to approach her here, in private property, too? She considered turning around and making a run for it, but propriety got the best of her in the last minute.

The person she met when she turned around however, wasn’t armed with a nosy and intrusive camera shoved at her face, neither were they trying to do anything remotely inappropriate as she had dreaded. If anything, it was most likely the last person Zowie would have expected to meet in any place, least of all at the cookies and crackers aisle of a supermarket, and consequently, she was _not_ prepared for that.

A little awed gasp escaped her lips before she successfully managed to form the words that then spilled from her lips.

“Ms. Carroll?”

The shock in Zowie’s words carried every single ounce of the disbelief that now coursed her veins. Having mentally prepared herself to get rid of someone being exceedingly annoying and disrespectful with both their actions and their words, the sight of her old Religious Studies teacher standing there, shopping basket in her elbow and a pack of crackers in her hand was something Zowie wasn’t prepared for. That those were the same brand Zowie held in her own hand didn’t go unnoticed to her, and that simple little fact, or that she had come to notice it at all, could have had Zowie laughing hysterically hadn’t she still been so utterly shocked.

The woman before her, so familiar, sketched a somewhat apologetic smile.

“Actually, it’s Mrs. Kennedy now, but I forgive you.”

Dumbly, Zowie kept blinking rather stupidly at the woman before her. It felt as she couldn’t do something as simple as put two and two together, and the one tiny little part of her that could actually function properly kept screaming at her to move over the blow and have some sort of adult conversation.

Instead, she found herself mumbling like a complete and utter moron.

“Mrs. Kennedy?”

At her obvious distress, Mrs. Kennedy’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and after carefully putting the pack of crackers in her shopping basket, she tilted her head slightly as she studied Zowie for a brief instant before answering her question.

“Well, yes… I got married four years ago, actually, hence the name change. But not enough time has passed for me to forget one of my most memorable students.” Giving her another smile, the woman added. “Please, call me Shelley.”

Fortunately for Zowie, that offer seemed to do the trick, and she, for once and for all, snapped out of it. However, at Ms. Carroll’s – _Mrs. Kennedy_ , Zowie mentally amended herself – subtle mention of her past antics at St. Mary’s, and more specifically during her class, she couldn’t help the blush that coloured her cheeks.

 _Here we go again_ , she mused.

“Oh, yes… about that, I’m really, really sorry. I know it’s late, but I suppose it’s due. I was quite the pain back then.” Zowie felt she had been apologising more in the past few months than ever before in her life, but hey, the woman deserved it.

But even then, Shelley discarded her apology with a wave of her hand and a shrug of her shoulders.

“You could hardly ever be labelled as one of my worse students. You were certainly temperamental and always had something to say, but you were a challenge. A welcomed one, I have to say.”

Of all the things Zowie could have anticipated her old teacher would say to her, that certainly had never made the list. Her, Zowie Hart, a challenge? Hell, she didn’t need an old teacher to tell her that. But that said challenge was a welcomed one? Now _that_ was totally unexpected! And coming from the one teacher Zowie had once considered her nemesis, it was all the more powerful.

But when she next spoke, Shelley’s expression fell, if only slightly, and Zowie steeled herself, knowing exactly what was coming her way just by the look on her face. When the older woman spoke, Zowie’s insight proved to be just right.

“I’m not sure how nice of me it is to mention this, or if it’s any nice or proper way to address the matter at all in the first place, but I have seen some of the… _articles_ that were published about you.” Zowie’s face must have been a painting of her discomfort at her words, for Shelley hurried to add. “I never judged you based on them, Zowie. I knew you from the time you were my student and I knew what had happened to your family since your sister still attended St. Mary’s for a number of years after you left, so I refused to believe the vilest things they said about you. I don’t know anything about it and I have never pretended to do so, but every time something came up, every time you were portrayed as some deviant character, I knew not all of it was true. We all make mistakes, Zowie… we all make bad decisions that lead us to bad situations, but whenever I saw what you were going through, I just couldn’t but help wish I was there for you in any way. I wished I could contact you, but…”

Zowie knew what would come next, even if Shelley conveniently decided to keep it unsaid. First, she had disappeared from the face of the Earth, and then had gone back to Wellington and hadn’t made herself available to people other than her mum and her brother until she could no longer delay it. Talking to someone would have helped, certainly; Zowie just had never considered her old Religious Studies teacher as an option.

Whatever discomfort had led Mrs. Kennedy to end her speech seemed to vanish, for she squared her shoulders and looked at her straight in the eye before resuming talking.

“But if you want to talk now, I have some spare time that we could use. If you’re not busy, of course.”

At that offer, one of Zowie’s eyebrows arched before she could consider stopping it as memories rushed back. Memories of feeling aggravated and embarrassed in front of her peers, of carrying an immature grudge against this woman that had done nothing more to Zowie than ask from her what even she knew she could deliver, but above all, a single and crystal clear image of a then Ms. Carroll chaperoning their Leaver’s Ball and offering Zowie help whenever she needed it after graduation. Just as clear as Zowie remembered thinking that never, ever in her life would she go to her for a shoulder to cry on or to be listened to as she unloaded her troubles on her.

Just another proof of how blindly had she treaded her younger years, Zowie mused. Someone had offered her help, and she had turned her back on them.

But she wasn’t that blind or such a fool anymore. She had grown up and had both the literal and figurative scars to prove it. The battle had been hard, but she had won in the end, and kept taking steps forward every single day. Why not just take another one and share her experiences with someone outside her immediate circle of family and loved ones?

The smile that had until then merely tugged at the corner of her lips now stretched them fully.

“Not busy at all.” She finally said. “Just let me tell my-“

“Zowie? Zowie?” Noemie’s urgent voice interrupted her. She hadn’t quite caught up with them yet, but she soon turned the corner of their aisle, and a smile touched her lips. “There you are! I was looking all over the place for you and… Mrs. Kennedy?”

Obviously, the only person there unaware of the change in Shelley’s marital status was Zowie herself, she mused when her mum greeted her old professor affectively and by her married name.

Noemie and Shelley exchanged pleasantries under Zowie’s amused gaze. Her mum had always been actively involved in her children’s education, so she was a regular fixture at both hers and Jewell’s school as well as Jared’s, so it wasn’t strange that even after a number of years, some of their past teachers would still remember her. She guessed that the fact that Jewell had graduated not that long ago also helped to keep her face fresh in Mrs. Kennedy’s mind.

“I was inviting Zowie here to have a cup of coffee with me and catch up… if you don’t mind me stealing her, of course.” Shelley said, her last few words giving Noemie an opening in case she was needed there, but surprisingly enough – or maybe not so much so – her mum discarded her concern with a wave of her hand.

“Oh no, no… you two go away, I can do my shopping on my own. I’ll let Orlando know where you are, okay?”

With a nod and a smile to her mum, she said her goodbyes and, much sooner than she had imagined, Zowie discovered herself out of the supermarket and inside Shelley’s car on the way to the latter’s home. The ride there was filled with non-committal conversation about everything and anything, mostly about people they both knew from Zowie’s time at St. Mary’s, but at the same time, it avoided the big and almost tangible elephant in the room. Not that Zowie minded; even though she knew exactly what was coming, not addressing it immediately meant a nice and welcomed respite before they had to finally breech the subject. The involvement that linked her to Shelley was no more than one built long ago as their time as student and teacher, so she imagined the feedback she would get from Shelley would be very similar to that she used to get from Rebecca, her therapist back in Prescott. She might have learnt how to handle the truth when it was shown and told to her in her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean she enjoyed it.

She couldn’t ignore, however, that the ride with Shelley was a very painteresque one, if albeit a little shorter than expected, and when the older woman parked the car on a little spot in a beautiful hillside of Thorndon, not far from St. Mary’s in fact, Zowie found herself captivated by the scenery around her. Exiting the car and paying little attention to the wood-cladded structure next to her that made part of Shelley’s house, Zowie focused on the lush greenery that surrounded her.

This was _it_. This was what she had missed so much during her time in Los Angeles, where mountains had seemed yellow and the city grey while everything in Wellington was made of the purest, most intense green she had ever seen. Not even the approaching fall could put a damper on such natural beauty! Located right between the Wellington Botanic Garden and Stellin Memorial Park, Shelley’s house took a vantage spot that gave Zowie the feeling of being surrounded by nature, and yet just a few miles away from the city centre. And the view of the Rimutaka on the opposite shore of Wellington Harbour? It took her breath away.

“Lovely, isn’t?” Shelley asked, dragging back from her reverie. “It was the view that did it. The moment Paul and I saw this house, we knew there was no other place we would like to make our home of. On sunny days like this, the view is simply spectacular.”

And Zowie didn’t doubt that for a second as she willingly followed a smiling Shelley inside and got the tour of the three-room house that showed every bit of the love she and her husband shared. There were pictures everywhere; of their wedding, their honeymoon – which they had spent in Australia, Shelley informed her, a fact proved by the sight of a picture of the smiling couple with the very famous Sydney Harbour Bridge on the back – and with family and friends. They seemed very much in love, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether she and Orlando looked like that when they were together. Although she imagined their relationship was completely different, as far as she knew.

“You two look really happy together.” Zowie said, finally tearing her attention from the pictures and turning to the other woman with a smile.

“Oh, it wasn’t always that easy… You know how we women always complain that men refuse to compromise and that is always us who have to push them into doing things? Well, with us, it was the other way around. It was _me_ who was afraid to commit to a serious relationship.”

Shocked, Zowie blinked, not quite sure what to make of that statement. She wasn’t as simplistic as to think that every single woman in the world wanted nothing more than to be in a serious relationship and that they carried their wedding dresses of choice in their purses – in fact she resented anyone who was as chauvinistic as to think that way – but she had to admit it was a rather surprising fact to find out that it was Shelley who was reluctant to be part of a relationship. Even though it hadn’t been the case with her and Orlando – mostly because _their_ case was rather special, she had to admit – she knew what the other woman meant about the men usually being the hesitant ones, so this outcome of events puzzled her a little.

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t?” Shelley said, interpreting Zowie’s shock for what it was as she led her to the nearby sofa.

“Well… in all honesty? Yes.” A smile played on Zowie’s lips as she sat down, her eyes drifting briefly to the view outside the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that went all around on three walls of the living room, before focusing on her old teacher once again. “I’m not sure why, because it should be normal, but I suppose we’re used to things being the other way around for this not to sound surprising in one way or another.”

“Try and imagine how stunned Paul was when I kept pushing him back time and time again!” A wide smile spread Shelley’s lips and her eyes drifted away, as she surely remembered what she had put her husband through. Zowie was intrigued now, though, and wanted to know more. That wasn’t something she could say about the beginnings of hers and Orlando’s relationship, that was for sure!

“But… why? I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

Shelley shrugged and then posed her hands on her lap.

“Because I was afraid I would lose myself. That I would put myself on the side, and I was doing so well on my own!” There was a wistful tone to her voice as she spoke. “I had come a long way on my own. I used to be painfully shy and insecure when I was a kind, you know? And once I grew up and grew confident in my own skin, I was afraid having someone so important in my life would alter everything I had worked so hard to achieve.”

Now that was something Zowie could relate to. Deep down, she had never doubted sharing her life with Orlando would ultimately make her happy, but after everything she had put herself through thinking he and he alone was the key to all oblivion and joy, having found out that she could stand on her own two feet and still exist without him, she knew exactly where Shelley came from. Zowie now knew that the key to happiness didn’t come from the hand of a man she had once thought had the power to make everything better in her life; the key was to be at peace with herself. Once that was achieved, the rest would eventually come along. She shared that idea with Shelley, and found the older woman could completely relate to those fears. She loved Orlando dearly, but her own peace of mind necessarily had to come first.

“But you know what? I don’t regret one minute of it.” Shelley said after a while, a glint of pride in her eyes. “Not only did Paul understand my needs for independence, I also got to know myself a little better. I found out that I could stand my ground without feeling guilty or fearing people would be mad at me, Zowie, and that was something that had plagued me my entire life up to that point. The idea of disappointing those I loved or making them mad at me was something that had terrified me and had limited my entire childhood and teenage years.”

To say Zowie was shocked, was the understatement of the century. This woman before her? She had never thought of her as having a single insecure bone in her body. She always seemed so sure of herself, so assertive, so unwavering, that hearing it from herself was the only way she would believe it. And to find out that there was more common ground between them than she had ever imagined? That was just as puzzling, because deep down inside, despite her rebellion and her disregard for other people’s feelings, Zowie too had been terrified out of her mind once.

“It has made our relationship better… in fact, I don’t think I’m mistaken when I say it’s the basis of what brings us together now. We are far more conscious of each other’s feelings, and while knowing our fears help us respect them, we don’t let them rule our lives anymore. I have a kind of respect for him I don’t think I would have otherwise.”

What Shelley said made more sense to Zowie than the older woman could even begin to comprehend, and when she stared at her in silence and with a rather awed look on her face, Shelley grinned hesitantly as she tilted her head, obviously not sure what to expect of her once rather impetuous and unpredictable student.

“Mmm… have I said something wrong?”

The hesitation in Shelley’s voice made Zowie smile despite the stormy emotions inside her. Realising she must have been staring at her in the oddest way, she blushed slightly as she shook her head.

“God, no… not at all. It’s just that what you said felt so right, so relatable to how I have felt since…” For a second, it was Zowie’s turn to hesitate. Could she open up to Shelley without her words ending up in some trashy article somewhere? God knew she wanted to, because she knew in her heart that this woman of all people could understand, if not all, at least a big part of what she had gone through, but was incredibly wary of what would happen should her worlds be inappropriately shared with the rest of the world. It felt paranoid and even more than a little ridiculous given she was a big nobody, but once bitten…

“Since when, Zowie? You can tell me anything. You know that I will never share this with anyone. That was never my intention when I invited you over.”

Zowie’s head bobbed slowly as she nodded, hints of hesitation still clinging to her soul. Honestly, what would Shelley win by selling this story? She might make some money out of it, but Zowie doubted it would be enough to compensate compromising her position at work if the truth should ever come out.

Zowie took a deep breath, one she later released in a long, heavy sigh that spoke of her heavy heart.

“Since Orlando came back into my life.” She finally said, her voice soft and her heart vulnerable. “I love him with all my heart and there’s absolutely no doubt about it. Not a single one. God knows I’m so utterly happy when I’m with him, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t fear losing my perspective on things. I have worked so hard to get to where I am now, I couldn’t possible afford to do such thing.”

Zowie stopped and took a deep breath when she realised she had blurted out some of her deepest fears, the ones she hadn’t even shared with Orlando himself nor anyone else but her old therapist, Rebecca. It was never easy to breach topics such as this, regardless of who offered her a shoulder to lean on, mostly because her feelings for Orlando were so strong, she felt rather guilty for feeling this way.

“Orlando is there for me every step of the way. Ever since he showed up in Prescott, he’s been by my side through everything, and let me tell you… some of the things we have gone through? They have been anything but easy. We have talked about what the future, what things will be like when we go back to America… and we both want to go back there. _Together_. I want to be with him and I know I’ll be happy by his side, but I still know that, for that to happen, I have to be happy with myself first, and not losing yourself when you love someone so much is so, so hard…”

Would there ever be a time when Zowie didn’t fear anything anymore? When she didn’t fear her mistakes from the past would come back to haunt her future? She knew that what was done should remain in the past and that it should never be allowed to taint what lay ahead, but it was so hard for her heart to remember that sometimes!

“Have you ever talked to him about these fears?”

Shelley’s question was so reasonable and the idea so plain, simple and obvious, Zowie surprised herself thinking the thought had never actually crossed her mind, and the touch of a blush coloured her cheeks in realisation.

“Actually? No. Not once.”

One corner of Shelley’s lips curled up with slight amusement as Zowie’s rather embarrassed admission.

“And may I ask why?”

“To be honest, it never crossed my mind. When he showed up, I was so shocked, and then everything was so sudden we didn’t have much option but to act without much thinking. I know Orlando will understand if I bring it up, it just… it never occurred to me.”

The way Shelley studied her, closely and with a glow in her eye that told her she was most likely reading her innermost thoughts should have made Zowie feel uncomfortable and perhaps angry, even, but she had put herself in her hands, and it was too late to do so. She didn’t want to, either. It would feel much like pretending and it would be most unfair to Shelley after she had opened up both her house and heart to her.

“How did all of this happen, Zowie?” Shelley asked suddenly, pretty much out of the blue. “I’ve always thought about it, I’ve tried to understand considering what little I knew, but I could never quite do it. You were so strong and determined, I was shocked when I found out what had happened to you.” She must have realised what she had just said could be misunderstood, for she amended herself soon. “I don’t mean to judge you, I just… I just want to understand. Help however I can.”

So Zowie talked. She told her own story the way she had shared it Brooke and Jewell, true and honest, sharing her past fears and her present ones, reliving the shame she felt at having been a victim to Matt’s violence only to remind herself that it wasn’t her fault that he was the kind of person he was. She could have ended it as soon as it had started and that was something that would forever torment a part of her soul, but she refused to dwell on that for too long. She relived how Geoff had pretty much saved her life by giving her a purpose, a goal, something to work on… and by putting Orlando back in her life. And then, she told the story of how she had to give him up in order to gain control of her life and be the person she knew she could be. Of the pain it had caused her, but of the pride and the joy that had bloomed in her heart when succeeding at grabbing the reins of her life, and then of the uncertainty that had risen its head when Orlando came back, but also of the utter bliss of having him in her life, of knowing he had felt for her exactly what she had felt for him during all those years.

But she also shared how she became a drug addict, and the devastation and helplessness in Shelley’s face brought tears to her eyes. Why did she feel like that? She had never had a part in the mess Zowie had turned her life into for a while! But instead of feeling resentment, a spark of understanding lit in her heart. What Shelley felt wasn’t pity; it was sympathy for the young girl she had once known.

“I wish I could have known.” Shelley whispered, her eyes full of unshed tears. “There are so many things I could have done for you! We could have talked, I could have tried to make you see sense and-“

“And I wouldn’t have listened to a single word you had to say.” Zowie stated matter-of-factly. “Knowing me back then and how damn stubborn and blind I was, you honestly think I would have listened? And to you, of all people? I had a personal vendetta against you back then. It’ so silly to think about it now, in the light of everything that happened to me, but back then I held the biggest grudge against you for embarrassing me in front of all the other girls once. Oh, and then there was a time, right after I met Orlando, when my mother found out I hadn’t done my job in your class and she threatened to cut me off the movies before the shooting even began. If that happened, I would have been kept away from Orlando, and you can imagine that didn’t rank too high in my list of priorities, so that instantly reflected on you and how I felt about you. Can you see me paying attention to anything you told me back then?”

Shelley seemed a little taken aback at Zowie’s honesty at first, at the importance she had had in the girl’s life, but then composed herself enough to grin a little.

“Well, when you put it that way… no, I don’t think you would have listened to me.”

Zowie smiled, but the gesture soon tinted with sadness.

“I suppose that, when you have a knack for getting in trouble like I do, well… you don’t listen to anyone, no matter how well-meaning they are.”

“Oh no, Zowie… no, no.” Shelley whispered, her feelings obvious in her voice as she reached out and posed a hand on Zowie’s. “You don’t have a knack for getting in trouble. You were just disoriented and things weren’t particularly easy for you back then either. We all are at one point or another of our lives.”

Zowie shook her head.

“But that’s exactly it.” She said, her blue eyes looking squarely in Shelley’s ones. “I knew _exactly_ what I was doing, what I was getting myself into. No one made me do anything, I did it all myself and out of free will. I could have always said no, I just didn’t. But I was in so much pain… so much!” Zowie’s pained whisper brought a surprising tear rolling down her cheek she hurried to brush away. “It was physical sometimes. That’s why I said yes to that first pill. And from then on, since things kept going downhill, the only way I could feel some sort of resemblance of happiness was through drugs, even though I knew deep down inside I was just lying to myself. And when I came down, when the drugs simply wore off… more than once I just wanted to die.”

The shocked gasp that left Shelley’s lips reclaimed Zowie’s attention, which had drifted away as she reminisced her painful past.

“Did you ever…?”

The other woman didn’t need to finish her sentence for Zowie to know what kind of thought was so horrible she couldn’t bring herself to put it in words. She shook her head.

“Never. But I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind once or twice when I was at my lowest point. It wasn’t my hand that nearly brought me to the end once.”

Shelley wasn’t as fast for wiping her tears as Zowie had been, so when she did, the ones the younger woman’s words had brought had dripped down her chin and left ever widening spots on her light blue shirt.

“Oh, Zowie… the things you had to go through… you were a victim of your circumstances.”

“Well, I can’t deny that. But I made people suffer too, you know, and I can certainly be blamed for doing it while I was in complete use of my consciousness. I felt pain and I felt anger, and I made sure those who had caused them felt their full power. I lied and hurt people intentionally, and I’m not proud of what I did. I could never be. I can only hope those who suffered the worst of my behaviour choose to look beyond that and, maybe, one day forgive me for everything I did to them.” Which included her dad, but Zowie pushed that thought aside with all her might. “I made all the wrong decisions out of the ones available to me. I chose to hide my pain with drugs instead of sharing it with someone and it only brought me almost to me death. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes, but I hurt too many people, and that’s what I regret the most, because I hurt them willingly and consciously. It was my way of telling them, _‘see what I have done? This is all your fault!’_ so I didn’t have to open my eyes and see how I had masochistically got into all this trouble all on my own.” A dry, humourless smile danced on Zowie’s trembling lips. “That’s the problem with us drug addicts, you know? It’s never our fault. It is always someone else’s.”

The way Shelley’s hand softly stroked her own dragged Zowie back to reality, and seeing the pain in the other woman’s eyes was as sobering as having her face slapped. This woman before her, the same one she had considered her nemesis for a good part of her teenage years – and now she could now how silly and immature that had been – felt so much pain for her, it touched her heart. When talking to her mum, to Jared, to Orlando, even, Zowie had come to expect that pain, simply because she had inflicted it on them. But this woman? What was the reason for her to feel this way, other than sympathising with her probably more than anyone else could? It was in times like these that the consciousness and the extent of what she had done hit Zowie with the might of a tidal wave. That, and the fact that she had to stop feeling sorry for herself; she had come too far to fall for that trap once again.

“You’re not a drug addict anymore, Zowie. You got out. You got cured and got better.” Shelley’s words were so earnest, Zowie could do nothing else but welcome them with a patient smile.

“You never stop being an addict. You never get _cured_.” She pointed out bluntly. “You just stop taking them and then learn to face the mess you’ve left behind. You face your issues. But the danger? It’s always there. Always. My body has already had a taste, and I never know when it will crave drugs so bad I will go downhill once again. It’s a constant struggle.”

Shelley’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears, her pain touching Zowie’s heart.

“I wish I could have been there for you.” The woman said. “That I could have helped in some way… whatever it was.”

A tiny smile tickled Zowie’s lips, and it was her turn to pat Shelley’s hand now.

“You did. Just now, with this whole conversation. Knowing I’m not the only one feeling these insecurities, that, in some way, it’s okay to feel this way… it has helped me more than you can imagine. I took drugs to escape, but I can’t run away from things anymore. I’ve got so many things to fix… my sister wants me out of her life… I’m not entirely sure I want my dad in mine as it is… I don’t know.” She sighed heavily and her eyes drifted to the ocean and the mountains in the distance, so clearly visible through the large windows. “I suppose nothing is easy anymore.”

Shelley took a deep breath, ran the tips of her fingers under her red and swollen eyes to dry her tears, and tried her best to compose herself when she noticed Zowie wasn’t as distressed anymore. It was funny, but although she had spoken some of biggest fears, she didn’t feel haunted by them. In fact, it had been liberating, and probably exactly what she needed at that moment in her life. This was a moment where pain and sorrow clouded part of her past, but also one where hope and great expectations paved her way to the future; a future she refused to let go before it even started.

“Life isn’t supposed to be easy, Zowie.” Shelley pointed out, her voice soft and heartfelt. “What kind of people would we be if there were never any challenges in our way?”

A wry grin touched Zowie’s lips at that.

“Some challenges happen just to be harder than others, right?”

Shelley mirrored her gesture.

“I’d say.”

Both women spent a long instant in silence, pondering what had just been said in that sun-drenched, classically furbished living room overlooking the city and beyond. To Shelley, it meant reconnecting with an old student that had represented a challenge, one she had enjoyed regardless the mixed emotions it had arisen in her at the time. To Zowie, it meant understanding she wasn’t the only one that had ever felt that way. It meant facing the future with whatever means she had at hand, but above all, with optimism in her heart, as well as facing those demons that still remained to be exorcised.

“I can’t say what will happen from now on.” She began to say. “But there’s one thing I need to do, and I’ll have to do it. I have no idea how, but I’ll give it a try. I didn’t come this far to chicken back in the last second. I can’t change Jewell’s mind, if all she wants is to banish me from her life… I suppose that’s her right and it’s definitely her decision. But the one way I can see what will happen between me and my dad from now on? That’s going to him and facing him. It won’t be easy, but I’m tired of hiding the dirt under rug like I did for years and years.” Her eyes shone with determination as she carried on. “You know why I became a drug addict in the first place? Besides everything that was going on at the time? Because drugs didn’t disappoint me. They didn’t hurt me. But above all, because I was completely incapable of dealing with things in an adult manner. I wasn’t an adult then, but I’m one now, and I can do it knowing disappointment can happen. That my dad isn’t as perfect as I always made him out to be, and that whatever happens, happens. I can’t control everything, and trying to do such thing will only hurt me.”

At her impassioned speech, Shelley smiled widely, their interlocked hands tightening when she squeezed Zowie’s own.

“You have come a long way, dear. I am so proud of you, even though I didn’t have much to do with it.” An apologetic gleam touched her eyes when she said that, as if she regretted having implied having anything to do with Zowie’s success at recovering control on her life.

“But you did!” Zowie countered quickly. “Maybe not before, but this conversation… it means more to me than you can possibly imagine. Thank you so much for that!” Her smile was honest and wide as she moved forward on her seat. “That someone I always thought so certain and unwavering as you showed me that she too has insecurities from time to time and that they affected her life as well… that’s priceless. I don’t know if I will ever overcome mine, but at least one day I’ll be back to look back in time and say that, at the very least, I tried my best. So thank you, once again. You do have a part in this.”

Shelley’s grin wavered for a fleeting instant as her powerful words hit her, but once she regained control over her emotions, she hesitated once again, as if not sure whether she should speak what was on her mind or not. Whatever it was she debated with herself, one of both seemed to win, for she took a deep breath as if to gather courage and then spoke.

“Would you mind… would you mind if I gave you a hug?”

Zowie beamed at her as she shook her head.

“No. Not at all.”

They hugged. And some tears that still lingered were shed, encouraging words were exchanged as comforting hands ran down each other’s backs, and as they sat there, both Shelley and Zowie knew that a whole new bond had been born between them that day; one that would, most likely, last forever as life threw at them everything it had.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 31.**

“Should we go ahead with this or not? Are we a hundred per cent sure this is exactly what we want to do? Is it even right?”

When Orlando met Noemie’s gaze squarely from one end of her kitchen to the other as she held the phone high in her hand, he knew that the concern and doubts he could read in her clear eyes mirrored those in his own. This was a gamble, and a very risky one at that, but one they felt they should face nonetheless.

When Zowie came back from her old teacher’s house, she had spoken to him of a new determination, a decision she had made during that conversation. Orlando was happy for her, for he knew she would have to eventually make peace with the most important man in her life in order to be fully at peace with herself and in her skin, but he could also read a hesitation in her that she had tried to conceal.

Should he help her in meeting her dad? Should he take a step aside, or should he simply hold what he might consider were her best interests at heart and stop it from ever happening? His protective instincts simply told him to hold her in his arms and keep her safe from all trouble, but another part of him, the rational one, reminded him that this couldn’t be put aside for long.

So while Noemie acted as Zowie’s intermediary with William and organized a meeting to reunite father and daughter after years of estrangement, Orlando doubted and hesitated, mostly due to one thing: the fact that he could feel Zowie’s own hesitation.

She had showed determination, yes, but as time passed and the meeting was postponed because William wasn’t in town, Orlando could feel that her drive waned with every passing day. So that was the reason why he and Noemie had decided to intervene. The date set for the meeting wouldn’t come for another three days, but with William contacting his former wife to let her know he was back sooner than anticipated, and with Zowie showing clear signs of wanting to back off the meeting altogether, the two of them felt something had to be done. And that was where the phone in Noemie’s hand entered the picture.

“Is it right? I wished I had the answer.” He answered, his voice full of the troubled and conflicting emotions that populated his heart as he ran a hand through the curls that had grown longer in his time in Wellington. “Am I sure? No, absolutely not. I have never been more scared of anything before in my life, but I still feel we should go ahead with it no matter what.” A heavy sigh punctuated his admission.

Noemie herself didn’t seem much more certain as she stared at him from her spot by the kitchen counter. With Zowie out with Jared, it was either now or never.

“William is up for it. I mean, he sure wants to see Zowie and as soon as possible, but I still can’t help fearing it will all explode in our faces and backfire badly. This is Zowie and William we’re talking about, two pure breed Harts, and Harts are not known for being any easy.” And she should know, having been married to one for nearly eighteen years and having given birth to another three of them. “But Zowie needs this. They both need it, in fact. They parted in the worst possible way, and that, along with the memories of lies and betrayal none of them bothered to correct over the years…” She took a long, deep breath that later came out in an equally long and deep sigh. “I want what’s best for Zowie, and I wonder whether this is it, exactly.”

What could Orlando say to that, when part of him felt exactly the same way? He too wanted what was best for Zowie, but his fears went down that same road.

“But if we don’t do this… if we don’t intervene and they never see each other because Zowie backs down…” Orlando didn’t need to finish his sentence for Noemie to know what he meant. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel weighed down by defeat, though.

“God, I wished we had a third option to pick from.”

Her wistful tone brought a dry smile to Orlando’s lips. They stared at each other for a long instant shrouded with doubt, until Orlando stretched his hand and spoke.

“You want me to do the talking?” Not that he particularly felt the urge of facing the father of the girl whose life he had greatly contributed to side-track, but hey, some things needed to be done. And it was then that, in some way, he understood Zowie.

Noemie hesitated for a moment before handing him the phone.

“Are you sure _you_ want to do this?” She asked him and he gave her a crooked smile.

“Well, facing angry fathers has never really been my forte, if you know what I mean.” He began to say with a grin that he hoped concealed some of his nervousness. A second later, however, his façade dropped, and he looked at Noemie with earnest honesty glowing in his brown eyes. “But I’ll _have_ to do this sooner or later if they make things up, you know? I suppose it’s better now than never.” _And hope for the best_ , Orlando mused, although he kept that last bit to himself.

A barely perceptible smile stretched Noemie’s lips and she patted his shoulder with affection. This man before her? He had topped her list of least favourite people in the world for years and years in a row. And during all those years, Noemie had put on him the blame for everything that had happened to her daughter. It had taken her years and, ultimately, countless conversations with Zowie to understand that Orlando wasn’t entirely to blame, and seeing how much he cared about her daughter now, how he did his best to avoid her getting hurt in any way, had certainly contributed to knock him off that top spot. That he now took it upon himself to contact William and took matters in his own hands only improved her opinion of him.

“Let me tell you something.” She said, her hand giving Orlando a soft squeeze on his shoulder. “If William is any smart, there are some things he’ll certainly keep to himself, at least for now. He’ll realise that this is not the time to play the angry father guarding his innocent daughter’s honour, but the time for him to own up and actually _be_ the father his daughter needs and loves.”

A heavy sigh escaped Orlando’s lips. His eyes fell to the phone’s screen, and his stomach twisted with a pang of nervousness bigger than he had dared to anticipate. William _was_ Zowie’s dad after all, and all jokes aside, there was an instinctive part of him that, even as a grown man, dreaded facing him after everything he had done to Zowie, whether consciously or not. But another part of him, a considerably larger one, dreaded what interfering between father and daughter would do to Zowie in the first place, and ultimately, to their own relationship. Orlando didn’t want Zowie to be mad at him, but deep down he knew it was time for him to step in and do something about it before she wasted this opportunity life had given her.

When Orlando finally pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear, that uneasiness grew exponentially with every ring on the line. And when a deep, familiar voice answered on the other end, his stomach did a somersault and he had to remind himself that he was a thirty year old man, and that he was not doing anything wrong. At least, not _this_ time!

“Hello, Noemie.”

The voice sounded relaxed and easy, and if only slightly guarded, as if he still feared his ex-wife would react badly. Hardly surprising, Orlando mused, given the way the former couple had parted ways years ago. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and readied himself to make his identity known without any further dallying.

“Actually, no… It’s Orlando. Orlando Bloom.” Should he elaborate on that? Should he remind the older man of the long time they had spent working together years ago?

When the silence on the other end continued for some long and unbearable seconds, Orlando parted his lips to speak, but was interrupted by a voice that, while courteous, also seemed to try hard to conceal the tension its owner felt.

“Orlando, hi. It’s been… a long time.”

And given the way he had spoken, Orlando would bet anything William would have preferred that time to be much, much longer, so he opted for an honest and, above all, forward approach.

“I’m afraid Zowie might be about to go back on her word and cancel the plans to meet you.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 32.**

“Can I take this thing off now? You know I know my way around this city like the palm of my hand and that I can very easily tell you where we’re going right? Perhaps not the exact location, but certainly the general vicinity, even blindfolded?”

“Which is exactly the reason why I took a few fake turns here and there, to throw your inner GPS off for a bit. And you thought you had me there for a minute. Ha!”

Orlando’s grin was wide when Zowie huffed as a sole response and crossed her arms over her chest. He knew her. He knew she wanted to know everything, and not knowing, not having the slightest idea where he was taking her? It had to be killing her. And his heart knew that, when he uncovered her eyes, Zowie would be delighted. Orlando just hoped that the next thing she saw later that morning would make her just as happy.

Behind the wheel, Orlando took a right turn at the first street that allowed him to, just for the sake of it, and stayed on that street – whichever it was – for as long as it allowed him to before taking a left turn and yet another right one, bent on disorienting Zowie as best as he could. Problem was, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore, for they would be far too close to their final destination for him to keep on gallivanting as he pleased without actually losing his way; after all, he used to be familiar with that area seven years ago, but that didn’t mean the city map was as fresh in his mind as it used to be back then. He did keep an eye on Zowie, though, hoping to catch her realisation straight away, should it come to that.

And boy was she attentive! Had it been physically possible, Orlando was sure that, since she was blindfolded, Zowie’s ears would have moved in every direction like a cat’s, hoping to catch any sign that would give away their whereabouts. But she hadn’t been able so far, and he knew that because of the frustrated sigh she had given just mere seconds ago, and having her this confused brought a grin to his lips. No matter how much she had matured, how much she had visibly changed, a part of her still resented not having the upper hand, and that part of her had made it obvious.

His smile wavered, nevertheless, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as apprehension grew in his heart. That certainty Orlando felt about Zowie’s feelings? He wished he felt it too regarding what was about to happen. It was a gamble; a risky one that could easily backfire on him, so much so, that on the very last second, Orlando second-guessed his decision. Had it been wise? Had it been the right thing to do? He tried to relax his grip on the wheel as he finally set the car towards their destination. Wise? Only time would tell. Right? Definitely. He just prayed to God Zowie would see it that way when it was all over.

“Well? Are you done turning right and left just for the sake of it? If you want me to say the words, then yes, I’m lost. Totally so. Happy now?”

Orlando couldn’t help the smirk that touched his lips. Lost she might be, but not completely inattentive, that was for sure.

“Thanks for your concession, I really appreciate it.” He said, a hint of smugness translating through his voice despite his concern. “We are on our way now. _Finally._ ”

“Oh, thank God!” She exclaimed, and visibly relaxed on her seat, earning herself a chuckle from him. “You have no idea how damn frustrating it is to sit here and have absolutely no idea where the hell you are. Not to mention that, for some strange reason, I’m beginning to feel slightly sick.” Her words were punctuated by a slight rub of her stomach.

“Might be all the twisting and turning. Sorry.” Orlando said, and his hand found her knee to give it a soft, reassuring squeeze. She waved him off before asking.

“It’s not that bad, I’m sure it will go away soon. By the way, can I take it off now?”

Caught off-guard, Orlando almost answered _yes_ before he caught himself right when the answer was about to fall carelessly from his lips. His mouth snapped shut and the glance he threw in her direction caught a tiny, naughty smile on Zowie’s lips.

“Ha, ha… nice try. You almost got me there for a second. But no, you can’t take it off. We’re almost there, I’ll let you know exactly when you can throw the damn thing away.”

“Oh, please! It’s not like I hate surprises, but this is driving me insane. I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me.”

Oh, God… he wished he could share her enthusiasm! But when their destination came to sight, Orlando steeled himself. This was the decision he had made, the decision Noemie had made too, that she had supported hoping it would be the best for her daughter. Trying to guess the outcome was impossible, for the sheer nature of what they had planned was unpredictable, and should he emit that worried vibe to her, Zowie would pick it up right away. So taking a deep breath, Orlando psyched himself up to keep the concern at bay and give her, for as long as he could, the best experience possible.

When he parked the car, Zowie shifted anxiously in her seat and, in one last, desperate effort not to rip the blindfold off her eyes, she slipped her hands under her thighs. She had kept a mental map of their trip for a while, but some place along the way, Orlando’s many twists and turns had managed to throw her off, and she now had no idea where they were. The engine was off and she could hear no sound of waves, which meant they were a bit more inland than she had first imagined. The sounds of a street graced with mild traffic didn’t give her that many clues either, so she had to give it to Orlando: he had her totally and completely lost. And for someone who knew Wellington like the back of her hand, that was quite an achievement.

“You can take the blindfold off now, unless you want to wait and…”

Orlando never managed to finish his sentence, for Zowie ripped the blindfold off, throwing it to the backseat before looking around. Not that it did any good, of course, for her eyes were blurred and too unfocused in the bright light to see anything after being blinded for so long, but blinking rapidly, Zowie rubbed her eyes and took a quick look around. When it proved to be unsuccessful, for she saw nothing else but cars, trees, and a white, two-storey building with wood cladding on the outside, she repeated the gesture, and this time, something caught her eye.

The white building didn’t seem any different to many others around Wellington, and given the spot where the car was parked, she couldn’t quite see the entrance, but the front yard was adorned with something that was most definitely odd. After all, how many other houses had big, lumpy…

Trolls?

“No way!” Zowie blurted out and, one second later, she was out of the car and crossing the short distance to the sidewalk with long steps. Eyes wide with amazement, she took in the big trolls partially hidden by the small trees, creatures that were so familiar to her she couldn’t possibly ignore what they meant. Besides, not many people chose to adorn their front yards with huge troll replicas, right? So the sight they made could only mean one thing, and with her eyes looking frantically around, the sign they met above the door at her left nearly made her knees buckle. Spinning on her heels, she turned to Orlando, who too had exited the car and now stared at her with a small smile on his face. “WETA?”

Nodding, Orlando approached her with careful steps, eyes riveted on her and trying to determine exactly what was that she truly felt. Because in that instant, Zowie’s face showed such myriad of emotions it had Orlando completely puzzled, since not a single one it showed seemed to stay there. Shock, awe, disbelief… in the end, however, it was joy that finally glowed in her blue eyes, and that made her offer him her widest smile as she looked up at him.

“WETA?” She repeated disbelievingly. “You brought me to WETA?”

“How romantic is that of me, to bring you back to the place where we first met? If you ask me, that gesture alone should definitely earn me something really, really good, don’t you think?” Wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, Orlando tried to make light of a situation he feared could easily and rather quickly escape from his hands, and then slipped his arms around her waist, pulling Zowie close, needing to feel her pressed tightly against him.

“I love you… I love you… I love you…” Zowie chanted those words as a mantra, each sentence punctuated by a quick kiss to Orlando’s lips. “You’re absolutely amazing, Orlando!” Gushing, she hugged him as tight as her arms allowed her to, and Orlando clung to her as he captured her lips for a longer, deeper kiss. He savoured it and the feeling of her warmth close to him with a feeling akin to desperation, and he felt cold and lost when Zowie suddenly stepped away and the kiss ended much too abruptly for his liking as she grabbed his hand and led him towards the entrance.

“Come on!” Zowie urged, excitement obvious in her every word and action as she tugged him toward the door. “I want to see every single thing. You think we might see someone that worked with us back in the day?”

Oh, that was for sure, Orlando mused at her comment, numbly following her or, more accurately, letting her drag him to wherever she pleased to go. Regardless of the difference, Orlando couldn’t do a single thing, as if his body simply refused to acknowledge the comings and goings of his mind as Zowie went on and on about the people she remembered working with during the main photography of _Lord of the Rings_ seven years ago, and that she wished she could see once again. Which in itself wasn’t entirely a bad thing, despite whatever weighed on Orlando’s heart, but that quickly got worse the moment his addled brain finally realised Zowie headed straight to the front door to WETA Cave, the museum attached to the workshop. If they crossed that door, things could, definitely, take a turn for the worse.

He dug in his heels as control of his body slowly came back to him and, tugging at her hand, Orlando finally got Zowie to stop on her tracks and give him a curious glance over her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“You do know there’s a museum in there, right? And a shop, too? Not to mention probably lots and lots of tourists that would just _love_ to see an actor, any actor, walk in there and make their day? Of course, their day would be awesome, but our plans here would be completely ruined after that.”

Okay, that might have been a bit of a cheap shot, some sort of blow below the belt in hopes of achieving his goal, but hey… Orlando was so _not_ in the mood to face a bunch of well-meaning but intensively intruding fans to add any unwanted stress to his day. He had even gone as far as calling in a few days ago to pull some strings and get a private visit to those places the tourists didn’t really get to see, so Zowie barging into the shop and exposing them was really not part of his plans. If he had gone as far as using whatever power having played Legolas brought him in that exact place, then he wasn’t about to let anything ruin it for him.

“Oh.” Was Zowie’s sole response to that.

She didn’t mind the occasional fan when they were polite – God knows they had been stopped quite a few times while out and about in Wellington for Orlando to give an autograph or take a picture with someone – but couldn’t help but see the truth in his reasoning. He dealt with it pretty well, but couldn’t blame him for wanting this day to be about them and them alone. A part of her was saddened, though, at the idea of perhaps missing on whatever the shop had to offer, but Zowie couldn’t ignore the fact that, while being with a public person, she would have to resign to some things. That didn’t mean she would sit down and let life pass by, but well… she didn’t like the idea of being recognised, photographed and then having some untrue story published on a rag that much either.

“It’s okay, I guess. But, is there any other way in?”

Orlando’s concerned expression vanished in the air, replaced by a smug smile in the blink of an eye, so quick it almost caught her by surprise.

“Honestly, baby? Having worn a wig and annoying contacts for months, you really think I wasn’t going to make them pay it back by letting us use some other door?”

Zowie’s grin sparked her blue eyes.

“A secondary way in was _all_ you got out of that deal? Lousy.”

Orlando scoffed at that, threw an arm around her shoulders and led her back where they had come from.

“What kind of things you think they have in here?” She asked, revelling on the feeling of their bodies pressed so tight together; his warmth was something she doubted she would ever tire of. “I remember seeing some stuff here back in the day while we trained, but that’s it.”

Orlando had every intention of answering her question, but her words brought memories back that he couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, banish from his mind.

“If I have to be completely, a hundred per cent honest, I have to admit that I spent most of those first days… weeks, actually… just ogling at you while I pretended to pay attention to what was being said.”

Her beaming smile was slow to appear, but so wide, Zowie feared her face would split in half from it. But hey, should that be the price for such admission, then she was more than willing to pay it!

“You honestly did that?” She asked, knowing at heart Orlando was saying the truth, but still needing a confirmation.

“What, ogle at you?” Orlando shot back, his voice sounding almost aggravated by Zowie’s doubts as he caressed her shoulder and upper arm. “I’m still surprised I learned anything at all during those very first days. And don’t act so coy yourself!” He added, his mock scolding tone making her smile unabashedly. “As if you didn’t know exactly what was going on in there!” Orlando nodded to the large building at their left. “Every day you walked into that training room, all smiles and flirty looks, always looking your best… you have to give me some credit – I turned out to be much stronger than I first thought, and I proved it resisting your charm day after day.”

“And boy, how I hated it!” Which had to be the understatement of the century, since Zowie had spent countless days and nights wrecking her brain, trying to come up with the magical idea that would bring all of Orlando’s walls down and would finally make him hers. It was almost ironic to look back in time now and see that she had finally got him by being herself, and without trying her earnest to be more experienced or, basically, someone she was not.

“If it makes you feel any better, you didn’t make it any easy for me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on her temple, Orlando brushed her sun-warmed hair with his cheek and then nodded at a door they had come across, not too far away from WETA Cave. “That’s us. They should be expecting us.”

“Even after all the time you wasted taking detour after detour?”

“Don’t dis my methods. Basic or not, were you or were you not efficiently lost after all?”

At that, Zowie had no choice but to admit defeat, and shaking her head with a small grin, she allowed herself to be guided to the door and through it, where a young man welcomed them with a wide smile on his face and an enthusiastic stance in his body.

“Welcome back to WETA, guys.” He said with a warm voice, his Kiwi accent so warm, friendly and recognisable that it made her feel right at home in a way that took her completely by surprise. Walking through that door was like stepping back in time in some fashion, and when his words finally sunk in her mind, warmth spread inside her.

 _Welcome back_ , the man had said. Back to where? To her home town, her home country, but more specifically, to the one place that had changed her life forever.

She was _back_! Something deep inside her, in her innermost core, shook to life as reality sunk in, and at last, Zowie comprehended what those words meant. Full circle. That was what they meant. She had come full circle, and that same part of her that had just been shaken up with a powerful wave of realisation now swelled to a threatening point, almost asphyxiating her. Whether with happiness or regret, she truly didn’t know, but she had to pull herself together in order to greet the young man that had shaken Orlando’s hand and now offered her a similar greeting.

“This is Zowie Hart. I told you about her when we talked over the phone.” Orlando had taken the lead with the introductions, and he stepped aside to allow her sufficient space to greet the man properly without him all over her. Having finished one half on the introductions, he carried on with the next. “Zowie, this is Jack Templeton. He will be our guide today.”

Taking a deep breath to steady her warring emotions, Zowie offered Jack her hand and a bright smile.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Jack said, his blue eyes twinkling with joy as she released his hand and slipped her own in the pockets of her jeans, feeling at once at ease with this guy. His excitement was obvious, as if he took great pride on having them there and, above all, under his wing during the duration of their tour. With that in sight, how couldn’t she feel if only a little excited herself?

“I hope we’re not keeping you from your job.” She offered apologetically; words that were disregarded by a wave of Jack’s hand.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve heard a lot about you two, I wouldn’t let anyone else but me do this.” His wide smile was contagious, and Zowie could see that Orlando too felt the same, for his face sported the grin she was sure mirrored her own.

“You’ve heard a lot about us? Yikes!” Orlando pretended to be afraid for a second before slapping the younger guy’s back. Jack blushed a little, but bounced back quite quickly.

“All good things, let me assure you. Now, do you want to start the tour right now? There are lots of things I want to show you guys… things we’ve added to the workshop ever since you last were here.”

Zowie had absolutely no doubt about that. Last time she stood in that very same spot, she had been too busy studying Orlando as he shot his very last scene for the movies, as well as nursing a broken heart that was about to tear in so many pieces she had thought it would never recover, to even consider appreciating what was truly going on around her. Had she even tried to pay any attention to the seemingly endless, tireless action that surrounded her back then? Had she tried to absorb the energy, the excitement, had she noticed the way the atmosphere buzzed with agitation? No. Not at all. Too busy holding her tears and a threatening hysteria at bay, Zowie had allowed precious parts of that priceless experience slip between her fingers by centring on herself, and herself only. Now she was ready to rectify that situation, and she would do it hand in hand with Orlando, something she wouldn’t have imagined back in that day when her heart grieved for the loss that was about to come.

This time, she would absorb it all. Zowie was ready for whatever Jack would have to show them, and when they entered the depths of the workshop, she realised she wouldn’t be disappointed.

Everything WETA had worked in during the past years was there. Props of all kinds were displayed all over the place, and Jack took great pleasure on explaining to what movie they belonged with great attention to detail. Zowie was surprised to see how far the whole thing had come since main photography for _Rings_ had begun, but then again, after having finally seen the movies some time ago, she realised she shouldn’t be surprised at all. The job done in the trilogy was superb, and it was only logical many directors and studios wanted them to participate in their own works. And considering what they saw there, the amount of people at work dedicated to the most varied kinds of props, Zowie could say their agenda was full, and rightly so.

Figurines attracted her attention from the moment she came across the first one of an orc, but it was one depicting Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli that caught her heart and refused to let it go. The attention to detail was so great, they had captured Orlando’s likeness so precisely, she couldn’t help but let out a giggle as her blue eyes darted from the real one, to the sculpted one.

“What?” Orlando asked the second time her eyes posed on him, looking at him as if it was the first time she saw him.

“Have you really taken a close look at this figurine? How much it looks like you?”

Orlando’s expression was rather dubious, but he took a step forward nonetheless, obviously doing it solely because Zowie had asked him to. The surprise he got, however, was just as obvious.

“Hey, this is not bad… not bad at all!” He exclaimed surprised, as he bent over at the waist to study the figurine located behind a protective pane of glass. “After seeing some of the actions figures made of me, hell… it’s relieving to see one that actually looks like me.”

However, regardless of the enchantment the figurine provided, and how badly it made her want to own it and display in on a mantle or some other place of equal importance when she went back home, the moment Jack led them into the next room, all other thoughts were banished from her mind.

The walls of the room were covered with the most varied kinds of weapons Zowie had seen in the workshop so far. Helmets were exhibited on a shelf about a foot above her head, along with bows and quivers and, quite surprisingly for her, a few life-sized replicas of orcs and others creatures belonging both to _Rings_ and other movies WETA had worked on. However, as interesting as they were, one thing attracted Zowie’s attention the most. Upon first sight, it caught her completely off guard, and she visibly jumped in her spot until her brain made sense of the situation.

“Oh, for the love of God!”

The words blurted out of her the very same instant she made eye contact with the large, furious and menacing figure of an Uruk-hai towering above her and staring right at her, a large and deadly weapon of sorts in its hand, its mouth open showing yellow and crooked teeth, poised to jump her. Instinct kicked in and, for a second, her body tensed, ready to fly. After a brief instant, however, something clicked inside her and she finally comprehended that the imposing figure before her wasn’t there solely to attack her and destroy her, as its expression promised; but that in reality, it was nothing more than a very vivid replica displayed there to showcase the workshop’s amazing talents.

And boy, were those people talented or what? Their work had nearly given her a heart attack! However, as soon as the rather unpleasant feeling of surprise that had taken over her left her, Zowie took her time to analyse the broad Uruk-hai standing before.

“Remember this guy?” She asked, tugging at Orlando’s hand to gain his attention as a smile played on her lips. “Boy, what a disappointment did Brooke and I have when we signed up as extras thinking we would get to play dress up and be these cool, beautiful elven looking princesses and we ended up turning into… well, _this_.” She accompanied the last word with a movement of her hand that encompassed the whole creature from head to toe, as if trying to accentuate the effect of her words.

No matter how hard he tried – and he certainly did his best effort, that much _had_ to be said – Orlando couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up inside him at Zowie’s obviously dejected tone. The memory of both girls and their frustration at the unexpected outcome was very clear, but that was also the case for their excitement at being part of the movies, of appearing on screen, even if they turned out to have their faces concealed by the distorted, black masks of the Uruk-hai warriors.

“Oh, but you two made the cutest Uruk-hais ever to be seen on screen.” He pointed out, and the teasing could be heard in every syllable Orlando pronounced. Elbowing him not so delicately, Zowie eyed him with an admonishing glow in her blue gaze.

“Yeah, yeah… right! I already heard that from Elijah and I still don’t believe it. But we did enjoy running after you guys like we were really going to kill you. Now _that_ was awesome!”

Giving her a sideways glance, Orlando said.

“Wow. Never took you for such a vicious creature. And you look so pretty and innocent and… Ooomph!”

He never got to finish his speech, for Zowie elbowed him again – this time without any sort of delicacy – successfully interrupting his tirade.

“Enough poking fun at me, damn it. You’ll scare poor Jack here away.”

The aforementioned Jack stared at them with a wide grin on his lips, as if both amused and very entertained by their exchange.

“Oh, no… not at all. Takes quite a lot to scare me away.” He said, his grin still in place as he took a small step aside, revealing part of the wall behind him that had until then been concealed by his body. “I wasn’t around at the time _Lord of the Rings_ movies were made, and I love to hear every story anyone can tell me. Besides-“

What Jack had exposed by stepping aside captivated Zowie to such a level, the young man’s words faded in the background, disappearing altogether when she felt a much too familiar pull throbbing all over her being.

The display of swords was impressive. To the unschooled eye, they might look entertaining, attractive; pretty, even. To Zowie’s awed gaze, however, they looked every bit as marvellous as they were. And their pull, that tug she felt deep in her heart at the sight of the weapons? It almost choked Zowie as it pulled her in two very different directions.

She barely paid attention to the crossbows, quivers and bows that too adorned the wall. Her eyes, surely glowing with a deep, intense longing, were riveted on the swords. Elvish swords, with their graceful elegance and stylised engravings graced one part of the display, showing blades of different lengths and styles, some complete with their leather scabbards. Some distance away, the more grotesque and less polished orc weapons also took a prominent spot in the exhibition, all ragged edges and menacing looking. But it was the human swords, the broadswords hanging one next to the other in and out of their scabbards, what made Zowie’s heart sing with joy. Also, however, weep with the biggest, most intense grief.

How long had it been since she had last held a sword in her hand? Let alone used one the way it was meant to? The answer her memory offered her wasn’t pleasant at all to Zowie. Not since Spain, she realised. Not since assisting Geoff during the shooting of _Kingdom of Heaven_. And that, she understood, was too long a time. Much too long for someone who had dedicated an important part of her life to learning every secret there was out there in sword handling and sword fighting. She had let it all go, and the realisation hit her in the middle of her chest, almost robbing her of her breath. First due to her addiction, then in order to recover from it. Could it be that, like many other things, swords were a part of her past, and not of her future? The pain in her chest extended, making her eyes sting with unshed tears. That might as well be the case, since her own sword, a gift from her parents so long ago, was gone and lost forever, she remembered, and Zowie had to blink to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

A deep breath was drawn into her lungs, and Zowie only realised she had left Orlando’s side the moment she saw that her fingers, until not long ago entwined with Orlando’s, reached, almost on their own volition, to a sword right before her. It was so close… so close! Her fingers itched, ached to wrap themselves around its handle the way she knew they could so she could wield it like she had once done so expertly.

The thought, and the image of her fingers, however, were sobering concepts. Could she still handle a sword the way it was meant to? Did she still had what it took to hold a sword in her hand and not be a threat to those around her? The sudden memory of her slicing a watermelon in anger and frustration surfaced, cooling some of her urge. She had known better than to lose it when she held a weapon in her hand, and still she had sliced the fruit her dad had brought in to show the actors what a live blade could do without a care. Of course, she had sobered instantly at the sight of the red flesh of the fruit but, who could grant her that she wouldn’t do something much too similar now? Zowie felt she was in much better control of her emotions now than she had at seventeen, but still, that responsible part of her that had grown as she matured, warned her to stay away. And as sad as the thought was, she knew better than to ignore it.

“Are you alright?” Orlando’s voice in her ear was quickly followed by his arms sliding around her waist, and Zowie had to swallow the lump lodged in her throat before she could answer. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she tried to sketch a smile that came out as nothing but a small curving of her lips.

“Yes. It’s just that… it was bound to bring some memories back, you know?” Covering his hands with hers, Zowie leaned back against him, knowing she could find in him the support she needed, whenever it was necessary.

“I thought about it, I really did.” Orlando said, his voice soft so Jack, who stood respectfully a few steps back, wasn’t inadvertently included in the conversation. “I knew memories would be stirred and that not all of them would be nice, but I hoped it would help you heal nonetheless. Anyway, if you want to leave, you only have to say it, Zowie. Say the word and we’ll be out of here in an instant.”

Despite her conflicting emotions, Zowie couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. She loved Orlando for being this considerate, but like he said, it would help her heal. She had already made too many mistakes trying to evade her past and her mistakes, and she had, hopefully, learnt from them. She was in Wellington to come full circle, and this was a part of the process.

“It’s okay. I want to do this. Really.”

“Are you sure?” Orlando asked, his voice uncertain.

Zowie nodded and turned in his embrace.

“I am. Now let’s go, I want to see what’s next.”

Orlando studied her face for a long instant, looking for something. He didn’t find it, and a wide smile graced his handsome face in response. Taking her hand in his, he stepped away and led the way back to Jack.

The sadness undeniably lingered for some time as they continued with their tour, but as Jack led them all over the workshop and showed them things that were both familiar and unfamiliar to them, Zowie’s spirits lifted a little with every step she took. There was so much to see, so much to remember, so much to tell Jack, that little by little, the grief that had arisen was pushed back. And when Jack led them to a wide, double white door and a mischievous grin took over his face, all those feelings were lost, replaced quickly by sheer curiosity.

“When I talked to Orlando a few days ago, he mentioned a few things and places he particularly wanted to visit. This was one of them. The first one he mentioned, actually, so I’m willing to guess it is of some great importance to you two.” Coming up to the couple, he stood before them. “My tour ends here. You two are on your own the minute you step through this door, but I’ll still be near in case you need me. It’s been a pleasure to spend this time with you, guys. You can come back any time.”

Jack offered Zowie his hand, and as she stared at it, she realised what a cold and impersonal gesture that would be after what that guy had given her. She didn’t want to just shake his hands, so she took both Jack and Orlando by surprise when she threw her arms around their guide and pulled him close for a tight, grateful hug.

“Thank you so, so much!” She whispered in the man’s ear before letting him go. “Thanks for being so considerate and patient with us. You didn’t have to do any of this and yet…” Her words trailed off, and Zowie once again felt the threat of upcoming tears, this time of a different nature.

Her comment must have pleased him enormously, for Jack blushed lightly up to the roots of his hair.

“Believe me, it was _my_ pleasure. There was no way I was going to let you guys slip and have another guy giving you the tour. So yes, you can call me selfish if you want.”

Smiling, Zowie gave him another quick hug and then stepped back, giving Orlando the chance to do his own thing. Once they had waved Jack goodbye, Orlando stood before her with a look on his face that would have worried her, hadn’t she been so happy once again.

“I love you, Zowie. More than anything. You know that, don’t you?”

Zowie arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips.

“What? You have a mistress and she’s waiting for us in there?” Orlando appeared taken back for a second before he gave her an admonishing look. Smiling, she slid her arms around his waist as she looked up into his eyes. “I love you. All of this… I know why you did it. I was shaken up for a while, but now I can see your point. And I’m willing to bet that whatever waits for us beyond that door will be just as great.”

Orlando’s heart lurched at her words. He just prayed she would still feel the same way when they left WETA later that day.

Giving him one last squeeze, Zowie let him go and tilted her head towards the door.

“Well? Should we go in or what?”


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 33.**

 

Zowie marched to the double doors with a determination and an aura of strength about her that tore Orlando’s heart in polar opposite directions. That part of him that was adult and responsible? That part admired and applauded the boldness that carried Zowie and that exhibited the growth of both her heart and her soul. But the other part, the one that was fearful, coward and decidedly selfish, wanted nothing but to throw his arms around her and drag her away. He not just wanted her far away from those doors; he suddenly wanted Zowie as far away from WETA as possible, safely ensconced where nothing or no one could ever hurt her.

But that wasn’t going to happen, Orlando realised, and chaos, that which he feared so much, would most likely ensue, and it was much too late for him to hold back the landslide that he had unleashed himself. Because no matter how much he wished to, he couldn’t for the life of him deprive Zowie of whatever joy she could find in the room she was about to enter, no matter how short-lived it turned out to be. Above all, however, because he was afraid.

There was one thing Orlando feared above all others, and that was Zowie’s pain, whatever it was caused by. And when said pain was caused by him… he shivered in his spot. The sole idea paralysed him and froze him to his spot, rendering him incapable of going after Zowie and stopping her from pressing her palms flat against the doors and, throwing her weight on them, opening them with a slight swinging noise that was followed a mere instant later by a strong gasp tumbling from her lips.

“This… this is the exact place where we first met!”

Oh, did her words make his heart bleed! Still, Orlando followed her nonetheless, reminding himself to be the man he actually was and owning up to whatever was coming his way instead of giving in to his fears.

Or actually, he _tried_ to follow her, for Zowie caught him completely off guard when she threw herself at him, her arms sneaking around his neck and hugging him so tight, she nearly left him breathless.

“You are the best. Boyfriend. Ever.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss to his lips that Orlando found himself savouring as if they were the last ones he would ever receive from her. He held her tight against him, absorbing her delighted words as she spoke in his ear of her love for him and how much she adored him for this, to her, enormous detail. If only she knew…

Pulling back just enough to look down at her, Orlando’s brown eyes searched her face, and finding it glowing with happiness, he couldn’t help the urge of kissing her with all the devotion he felt for her.

Yet, Zowie remained blissfully ignorant of the turmoil inside him, and beaming up at him in a way that thawed the frost that had crept up his heart, she slipped free from his arms and began a hurried and randomly patterned tour of the training room, as if something inside her feared one thing or another would go amiss if she wasn’t everywhere at the same time.

When she stood in a particular spot and spun on her heels to look at him with an impish glow in her blue eyes, Orlando felt himself transported back in time. The past seven years hadn’t passed by with all their ups and downs, and as Zowie stood there with a smile on her lips that matched the look in her eyes, Orlando felt twenty-two all over again, on board for the adventure of a lifetime and with the entire world at his feet. And the girl he wanted by his side on that journey? She stood right there in front of him, a spark in her eye that told him she was up for every single adventure he could come up with. Not only that; that she could come up with a few of her own that would most likely keep him on his toes.

And boy, had Zowie been the most unexpected, yet the most welcomed surprise of his life!

“This is the exact place you stood when I first saw you.” Zowie said, her feet glued to the floor as she stretched her arms away from her and slightly swung left and right, as if to further demonstrate her point. “You were here, with Stuart by your side, and I was so taken with you, I forgot the most basic rule of sword fighting: always keep your eye on your opponent. But how could I give a damn about anyone else when you stood here, all tall and lanky and wide-eyed?”

The lump that suddenly took up residence in Orlando’s throat choked him, and his eyes burnt with the abrupt sting of tears. That devotion… what had he ever done to deserve it? Time and time again he had stomped on that trust, breaking her heart and leading Zowie to the darkest depths of her existence. And she still loved him nonetheless? He was far more fortunate than he merited, Orlando pondered. A fact that was about to be proved true, he realised with a feeling of dread sneaking down his spine.

“You made quite an impressive sight.” Orlando managed to choke out around the knot in his throat, which he laboriously swallowed before continuing. “I had never seen a girl so young doing something like that. I had never seen anyone doing it, period.” A small smile accompanied his brief clarification. “And you seemed so adept at it, so good… and so damn pretty!”

Orlando’s confession brought a wide, pleased smile to Zowie’s lips, as if she was finally getting the confirmation to something she had suspected for a long, long time.

“I always knew it had to be you.” She said, her smile slowly vanishing and replaced by an earnest glow that took her over. “Even back then, I knew you had to be a part of my life. I had no idea how and I went for all the wrong options when I became obsessed with you, but I _knew_ it. But even feeling the way I did, I never imagined this would come to happen, though… That, in time, we’d be back here, and that we’d end up going through so much to be together.  Hell, for a while, I didn’t imagine you could even love me the way I did! And yet, here we are.”

Her eyes scanned the familiar training room, a mist taking over them as if, in her mind, Zowie was seeing it as it was seven years ago, with all the elements and the people that were about to be such a big part of her life. When they settled on him, Orlando felt the power of her emotions hitting him, going straight for his heart. For once, they didn’t need the words. For once, they could simply enjoy the silence, for their feelings were clear and obvious, and when they walked towards each other, meeting in the middle, no words were necessary. They simply kissed, slowly, leisurely, lovingly. As if for the very first time, the two of them fully understood what they had gone through to finally be together once again, in that very same room where everything had begun so long ago. Orlando refused to dwell on the jeopardy he was about to put them through, focusing instead on the feeling of her breath on his neck as they remained tightly embraced, her head on his shoulder as the silence enveloped them like a thick, welcomed veil none of them truly wanted to break, but that eventually had to come to an end.

When Orlando took one of her hands in his, Zowie looked up at him, puzzled. He winked at her and, leading her to a nearby table, they both stood there until he pointed at a nondescript box that rested atop it. Zowie expressed her doubts by arching her eyebrows at him, to which he answered with a small grin and a nod to the box. As if she truly didn’t want to, Zowie slowly let go of his hand, and her own hovered hesitantly over the box for a brief instant before opening it resolutely.

Deep inside her, Zowie had the feeling she knew what waited for her inside that box, and that knowledge prompted the temporary hesitation that had suddenly taken her over. Could she do it? Still? And should she be right, how would she react? Minutes ago she had brought herself back to reality when the sight of a beautifully crafted elven sword had caught her eye. There were so many risks, should she have lost her ability at it!

But then again, who could she hurt, other than herself? There was no one else there. And besides, she had no way of knowing she was right or wrong about this part of the surprise unless she, at last, opened the box before her. Orlando had gone to all this trouble to make her happy. Couldn’t she do this, if only to make him a bit happy in return? Resolution steeled her every muscle, and when Zowie flipped the box’s lid open, there were only two things she was sure about.

One, that she had been right about the surprise all along.

And two, that she was just as suddenly and completely overcome by emotion as she had anticipated.

The sword was simple. Hardly any ornamentations adorned its length other than a few, basic engravings on the pommel identifying its maker. Black leather enveloped the grip and the blade was polished enough for her to see her reflection as she leaned over the box to analyse its contents. It was every bit as any other sword she had seen before, that she had trained with and that she had taught others how to use, and yet… it touched something so deep inside her she felt moved to her core. So many memories whirled in Zowie’s mind, they nearly made her dizzy. The first time she held a sword, every moment she and her dad had shared training, working, devising strategies… fighting over them, even! They all returned to her, hitting her with a power that made her gasp for breath. How had she ever convinced herself that she could leave that part of her life behind? Zowie could now see the stupidity of her earlier thoughts, back when she stood before the sword display merely minutes ago. She would never be able to let that part of her go, because Zowie would never quite forget what sword fighting had meant to her during such a big and pivotal part of her life. Letting go of it would be like letting go of her past, and if she did such thing, what would be of her?

“I thought it’d be a good idea.” Orlando suddenly spoke next to her, bringing Zowie back from her musings. “It’s been so long and I thought you might want to…”

He couldn’t finish voicing his thoughts, and when Zowie detected the emotion that had choked his words, her eyes looked for his. Orlando’s brown gaze was hooded, obscured by a kind of regret that made her own heart cry. He thought he was making her sad? Zowie tried to smile at him, but her own emotions turned it into a wavering gesture.

“And it was. It _is_ a good idea. I’m just… shocked.” She said, trying to explain herself. “Back there, I thought I could let go of this whole thing, that I could take a step forward and never look back. Now I know I can’t. I can’t let go of my past, Orlando… It would be like letting go parts of me that make me the person I am. I think it’s only fitting you were the one bringing this to attention. You have already made me face so many things about myself, I shouldn’t be surprised you did this for me as well.” Taking his hand in hers, she gave it a hearty squeeze as she smiled at him. “Can I?” She asked, tilting her head at the sword.

Taken aback for a second, Orlando quickly overcome his shock and gave her an almost admonishing look.

“Honestly? You’re _really_ asking me if you can?”

Laughing at his offended tone, Zowie let go of his hand and with a determination that surprised even her, she then felt it wrap itself around the grip of the sword. It felt familiar, as if she connected with a part of her that had long been dormant, and that now began to curiously raise its head, blinking rapidly as it tried to make sense of this new and unexpected situation.

Nevertheless, and just like every other time before that Zowie had held a sword in her hand, that part of her became wide awake and alert, and when she lifted the sword from the box, no doubts remained. She could _do_ this. She still knew how to do it. And when she wrapped her other hand around the grip and took a lunge to her left, always mindful of Orlando standing at her right, she realised she hadn’t forgotten a single thing.

It was like slipping into an old, worn pair of shoes that moulded exactly to her feet, knowing precisely where to support her most and where to give in to the pressure her movements created. Holding a sword in her hands, Zowie realised, felt exactly like that. Having quickly registered its weight, she now lunged and blocked invisible attacks as if she had been doing that exact same thing up to a couple of hours ago. As if she had left the sword aside to have lunch and had just come back to find its grip still warm from her hands and waiting to be held again soon. And with the sword in her hands, time slipped by. Everything around her disappeared. She was Zowie, nothing more. A girl that had grown up with a hobby so different to those of her school mates, that she had never been able to stop feeling unique about it, loving every minute of it. A girl whose hobby had connected her to her father at such a deep level, that had helped open new horizons to her she had never imagined. A hobby that had, ultimately, given her so much grief, but also so much love.

She lost track of time. Zowie knew Orlando had stepped aside the minute she had let herself loose, but was acutely aware of his presence and of every single boundary of the room as she moved around. His form was a blurry shape as she turned in this direction and that, but he was always there. She knew he hadn’t left her alone, no matter how much she enjoyed this experience. How had she ever even considered letting this go? Zowie could have shaken her head. Yet another proof of her ignorance, she mused. With the odds on her favour, she would keep on doing this for the rest of her life.

Not many things could have taken Zowie from the delighted haze that surrounded her, from the zone she had slipped into the moment her fingers wrapped around the familiar handle of the sword. Feeling Orlando come much too close for his safety was definitely one of them; safety was always first and foremost, as it had been engraved in her brain all those years ago. Still, although far from being an expert, Orlando knew better than to step as close to her as he was as she wielded a sword, let alone with as much passion as she was putting into it in that instant.

So when her powerful lunge, thrown with all her might in the opposite direction knowing she would meet no resistance there, was suddenly and unexpectedly blocked by another sword, Zowie was cruelly jerked back to reality, to the here and the now. Her lunge had been so strong and her anticipation of a block so completely inexistent, that when it finally came, the clash of blades was so potent, it made her teeth rattle and her entire being to lose its balance. Her lids had shut tightly, an instinctive reaction Zowie couldn’t have stopped no matter what, and when she parted them in shock, coming in contact with what waited for her, whatever surprise she might have felt until then faded in the background as something akin to an electric jolt took her over from head to toe.

The loud and discordant metal clatter of her sword hitting the floor rang deafeningly in her ears as it echoed around the training room. Barely aware that she no longer held the sword in her hand, Zowie took a step back so clumsy, she tripped on her own feet. A terrified yelp tumbled from her lips, and Zowie braced herself for a fall that never actually came. A hand, the same hand that had countless times before kept her from harm and danger had once again sprang into action, pulling her close to a large, strong body and away from danger. With her heart thundering in her chest, it took Zowie an instant to look up and stare rather stupidly at the man before her.

“Are you alright?” William asked, eyes glowing with concern.

 _Wake up, you moron! Wake up and do something! Say something!_ Her mind screamed at her, but Zowie seemed to have no reaction whatsoever. Dumbstruck, taken completely by surprise and thrown from her comfort zone by his mere appearance, she had no idea what to do.

Something that she saw in those blue eyes that mirrored her own, though, eyes that she knew so well and that she had even grown to despise, woke her up. Bringing her back to reality from that haze born of shock and suddenness, Zowie shook visibly as she jerked herself free from William’s grip, once again stepping away from him; this time, however, no doubt coloured her steps. This time, certainty echoed around the room each time her steps took her further and further away from William, her eyes growing darker and more accusative.

“You!” She spat venomously as her eyes bore into William’s. Then, whirling on her heels, Zowie’s eyes trained on Orlando’s dark ones, not taking a second to notice the worry that clouded them. “You knew about this? You _did_ this? Is this why you brought me here in the first place?”

The second Orlando took to answer was impossibly long to Zowie, and when he finally did, she felt as if her whole world had crumbled and disappeared from beneath her.

“Yes. When Noemie and I noticed you weren’t so determined to see him as you used to, we thought this might be for the best.”

The pain in his voice carried towards her, but in that instant, all Zowie could feel was anger. She had been set up? Didn’t they think she could make her decisions on her own? Rage boiled inside her, threatening to spill over at the most unexpected instant. And when it did, no one could have expected, not even her, the shape her outburst took.

With her eyes shooting daggers at the men in the room, Zowie snapped and, losing all control over herself, she did something she had never, ever, allowed herself to do before. Never, in all the years she had spent with a sword in her hand, had Zowie let this happen, for it was deeply engraved in her mind not to do it. However, melted under the heat of her fury, Zowie took the steps that separated her from her sword and, bending over to pick it up, she did the one thing she had always known she should never do: she attacked William. And not just to spar with him. She had one goal in mind, and that was to inflict as much pain in him as she herself felt in that instant.

“Zowie! For goodness’ sake, what on Earth are you doing?”

Orlando’s voice, his shock and incredulity rang in her ears, but as stubborn as she had always been, Zowie refused to let them sink in, let alone answer them in any adult fashion whatsoever. She wanted one thing in that instant, and one thing only: to reach William with her blade in some way. _Any_ way. Just one that would cause him some measure of pain and relieve her own.

Problem was, that man before her, standing sure and with expertise colouring his every movement? He had taught her everything she knew, and no trick she could pull on him would ever catch him by surprise, and boy did that frustrate the hell out of her!

“Put the sword down now! Zowie, please!”

Orlando’s plea didn’t faze her in the least, and Zowie carried on as her anger rose to unexpected levels. Why didn’t William strike back? He did nothing else but defend himself from her strong and expert attacks! He blocked and ably moved this way and the other, but not once did he lunge or try to disarm her. It was almost as if William was letting her have her way, and being unable to hurt him was doing marvels to further ignite Zowie’s fury.

Wait a second…

William was _indeed_ letting her have her way!

No wonder he never did anything beyond taking a defensive stand! He was, like many other times before since she was a child, letting her do what she wanted. With the anger that permanently rose inside her reaching new and unsuspected levels, Zowie realised that her dad was letting her throw one more tantrum as if she was a little kid. As if she knew nothing else to do and as if she still was the brat he had once known.

The thought angered her, yes, but it also seared her heart with burning pain. Was this what her father thought of her? That she was still the angry, immature and spoiled teenager he had known? Her lunges and attacks gained speed and strength. And Orlando had set her up for _this_? The pain in her heart pierced her once again. Why had he lied at her? And her mum had plotted this with him… How many others knew about this? Why did they consider her unfit to deal with it and had to keep it a secret? She had turned her life around, and still they considered her unstable?

Slowly, reluctantly, anger began to ebb away, leaving nothing but pain and frustration in its wake that seared mercilessly at Zowie’s heart. Her lunges, once filled with a fury that powered them and made them a force to be reckoned with, now lost their might as her fingers grew numb, the grip of the unfamiliar sword slipping from her now powerless grip. She tried to catch William by surprise one last time and nearly succeeded, but even she had to admit that her heart wasn’t in it. Discovering that she couldn’t do this anymore, that she _didn’t_ want to, but above all, that no one around her thought her capable of dealing with her problems on her own… it drained her. With a loud, anguished cry, Zowie blindly tossed her sword away and plunged to her knees on the floor, feeling exhausted, betrayed, and above all, utterly, utterly heartbroken.

Steps rushed towards her, but with tears streaming down her cheeks and sobs tearing at her chest, she flung her arms out to keep the men away from her. She didn’t want them there, and mostly, she didn’t want them anywhere near her in that instant. Had Orlando really thought she wasn’t going to do this? That she had been lying when saying she wanted to meet her father? And Noemie did too? Such lack of confidence pierced her heart.

“Zowie…”

Orlando’s voice sounded anguished and concerned, but God helped her, Zowie couldn’t find it in her to relate to his pain. His pain? She could have laughed. What about _hers_? She loved him, that was for sure, but in that instant, Zowie simply didn’t want him anywhere near her. She knew she would go to him and ask for forgiveness later on because what they had was simply too precious for her to let it go over something like this, but right now… she didn’t want him there. His betrayal hurt far too much for her to consider his feelings as well.

“Go away.” She muttered under her breath, all strength having vanished from her and leaving her feeling void of all emotion. However, when she felt a pair of strong hands gripping her upper arms as a warm body knelt beside her, a rush of a heated sensation overcame her, and Zowie reacted the only way she knew how: she pushed Orlando away with all her might. “Go away!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “I don’t want to see you now! Just go away!”

The warm body tensed beside her, and she could nearly feel his reluctance radiating from every cell in his body. She repeated her plea, refusing to look at him, this time with a worn voice. Zowie hadn’t felt this unstable, hadn’t ridden the old rollercoaster of her feelings in such a long time, it threw her off for a second. She loved Orlando with all her heart, but she couldn’t look at him right now. Betrayal was an ugly thing, and Zowie had grown up enough to understand that asking him to leave was the gentlest thing she could do right now. If she let herself go and went off on him… then there would be no way back.

In fact, she was reserving that for a special someone standing some distance from her, his legs visible in her field of view.

“Orlando, please… leave now.” She begged one last time. Never did the tension leave his strong body, but at last, he seemed to understand what she asked from him. His hands tightened their grip on her arms, and the whispered words he spoke in her ear were nearly Zowie’s undoing.

“I love you. Never forget that.”

When Orlando stood up and walked away, Zowie felt a part of her going away with him, but she knew this was something that needed to be done. She loved Orlando with all her heart, but he needed to understand for once and for all that she was strong. That she had grown up. That she had matured. She was willing to give him a chance, but Orlando would have to understand that she could handle things on her own and that she didn’t need anyone’s meddling.

The man before her, however, wasn’t going to be granted such benefits.

“That boy.” William began to say while Zowie still remained on her knees. “He loves you. When he called me, I-“

“Don’t you even dare!” Suddenly reinvigorated now that anger once again flowed inside her, Zowie nimbly jumped to her feet. “I know how he feels about me and I don’t need you of all people breaking any news to me. Especially not when they’re related to people’s emotions and honesty, of all things!”

It was the first time Zowie truly took a look at her father in over six years, and the blow she felt in her heart… she wasn’t at all prepared for that.

This was a face she knew by heart. It was the one she had looked up at countless times as he put her to bed when she was a child, the one that had hardened with firmness and determination as he taught her to properly use a sword, those sharp blue eyes that mirrored her own never, ever missing a single detail. The same ones that angry sparkles had flown from during every one of their many arguments together, the ones that had ultimately humbled themselves hoping to earn her loving and understanding once again. The ones Zowie had shamelessly deceived once to get what she wanted. A pang went through her heart at the thought, but she steeled her resolve, still furious at this ambush.

William looked exactly as she remembered. Yet, he didn’t, at the same time, and it wasn’t hard at all to pin point why. He had grown older, just like Zowie herself had. The determined, sharp and square-like line of his jaw, the one Zowie had inherited, had remained the same, but there were wrinkles around William’s eyes that hadn’t been there last time she saw him. Tiny wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and deeper, more defined lines giving him something that resembled a permanent frown. How much of that, Zowie wondered, had been caused by her? Surely as many as the ones caused by his own actions, she mused bitterly. William had certainly done enough to gain them on his own.

“Nevertheless, he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. Orlando cares about you enough to worry about what’s best for you. Don’t you think that should count for something?” William said, bringing her back from her daydreams. “I know you’re mad and I want you to know that it’s okay to feel that way, but…”

The bitter laugh that escaped between Zowie’s lips was laced with shock and more than a little anger.

“What? It’s _okay_ for me to feel this way? You _approve_ of my feelings?” The utter disbelief Zowie felt in that instant coursed through every vein of her body, and she couldn’t have stopped it no matter how hard she tried. “Are you honestly trying to feed me this kind of crap? I spent years in counselling having people expert in psychology make me understand that I have every right to feel whatever the fuck I want to, so what gives you the idea that I need _your_ permission, out of all people?”

William paled, taking every single one of her words and feeling them battering his already wounded heart without mercy or respite.

“You’re mad at me and I know it.” Zowie’s snort represented a brief interruption William chose to overlook in that instant. “And what’s even more important, you have every right to do so. So take it out on _me_ , not on Orlando.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, leave Orlando out of this! You never, ever wanted him by my side. You think I don’t know how you felt about him back in the day? But guess what? Look around you. He’s here because I _want_ him to. Guess who I don’t want by my side right now? Come on, take a wild guess!” Her urging sounded desperate even to her ears, but Zowie was beyond caring now. She wanted to make a point come across, and her dad didn’t seem to understand the most obvious facts. And that he kept acting all zen about things, as if her anger didn’t matter… oh, it only succeeded on making her even more furious.

Taking a deep, hopefully soothing breath, Zowie turned around and walked away, hoping to put if only a few steps between her and William in hopes it would clear her mind some. Yet, as she did, his words kept replaying in her mind, doing nothing for her fury to subside. So he understood? So William understood what she had gone through because of him? She spun on her heels and charged towards him like an angry bull. Let’s see how well he understood what had been going on in her heart and soul for the past seven years.

“You have absolutely no idea what it was like for me! Do you have any idea the volume of things you and your selfish behaviour did to me? No? Let me explain it for you, then. Let me put it in simple and clear words for you to understand with no mistakes whatsoever. You _ruined_ my life, dad. That’s exactly what you did to me!” Lightning blazed from her blue eyes, burning at her dad whenever they hit him.

And in his benefit, Zowie had to say that William appeared truly, utterly regretful, and in so much sorrow at her admission that, hadn’t she been so angry, hadn’t she been so stubborn, she would have probably crumbled down. But she was that and so much more, and she herself was in so much pain that she refused to break down and have William get away with it so damn easily.

Under her probing, heated gaze, Zowie saw her dad swallowing hard before he answered.

“I’ve always cared, Zowie. I’ve always loved you, you should never have a single doubt about that. I just… I just made too many mistakes, but please never doubt the depth and strength of my feelings for you.”

Did he honestly think that solved it all? That many and seemingly endless years of pain and heartache, of lies and secrets, would be simply overruled by that one admission? Tears of anger and frustration burned in her eyes as his statement hit her like a tidal wave. Her emotions had been on edge ever since setting foot in WETA; that her father chose that precise moment to unload such weighty words on her only managed to fuel her enhanced feelings even further. And when that happened, and the man she had always blamed for all her pain stood before her, Zowie reacted the only way she knew how. She attacked.

Throwing herself at him, she pushed William with all her might, and was further incensed when he didn’t budge an inch.

“I hate you!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, helpless to stop the tears that now rolled down her cheeks. “You hurt me so much! You lied, you cheated, you left the evidence to your secret out there in the open hoping someone else would find it and you wouldn’t have to admit it yourself, and I… I…”

Emotions warred inside her. Anger was strong and Zowie wanted desperately to hold on to it, wanted to keep on lashing at William the way she was certain he deserved, but something else reared its head inside her, and its appearance terrified Zowie to the bone.

Yes, she was still furious. Yes, like a wounded beast, she wanted to inflict as much pain as possible before finally giving in and become a prey to its nature, and it was said nature that worried Zowie in that precise instant. Because that nature loved William despite everything that had happened over the years. It loved him beyond all doubt and question, and the iron bubble that had contained such feelings inside her for so long had burst, spreading them inside her and rendering her helpless under their attack. Frustrated, angry, lost, Zowie gave in to the tears that burned in her eyes and the feelings running rampant inside her and broke down, sobs once again tearing at her with a might she had never experienced before. She had cried endlessly when finding out about William’s secret life, and had felt her heart torn away from her when Orlando left, but never had she felt this, for this time she knew it was her and only her the one with the power to put an end to her misery, and deep down inside, she feared herself incapable of knowing how to do such thing. She feared being much too stubborn to let go of her convictions now, after so long, and that said incapability would only end up hurting her.

“Oh, Zowie… love, I am so, so sorry…” William’s voice sounded softly in her ears, and the telling choking of tears was clearly audible despite her not wanting to look at him. Zowie tried hard to hold on to what little thread still joined her to the fury she had felt for so long, but the moment her father took her in his strong arms for the first time in so long, she realised she stood absolutely no chance against him.

And why would she? She loved this man. She had always loved him, and the more she convinced herself that such feelings were dead, that he had effectively killed them one Sunday morning years ago, the more she suffered. The more Zowie punished herself for having those feelings, for still loving her father despite everything he had done to her, the more she ended up as the only one affected by her conflictive emotions.

Would it be so hard to let go, after all? Would it be so hard to hold her father the way her heart begged her to, the way her heart had wished her to do for years and years and tell him what she felt for him?

“I love you so much, Zowie. And I’m so very sorry for everything I did to you, for hurting you so bad. I was such a selfish coward, that I never realised how my actions could affect others. Had I been a different, stronger man, then none of this would have happened to you.”

Zowie’s sobs racked her body with renewed strength; this time, owed to the surge of love so intense unleashed inside her at his heartfelt admission. God, she loved him too, and so, so much at that! Throwing her arms around his strong body, Zowie could tell she had caught William by surprise, if the tensing of his muscles was anything to go by. His shock, nonetheless, was short-lived; he soon brought her close for a bone-crushing hug that would have made someone weaker faint, but that filled Zowie with exhilarating joy.

How long did they spend in a silence only broken by the whispered words of love that William spoke in Zowie’s ears and that only made her tears flow even more freely? They would never know. That time, however, was exactly what they needed to reconnect, to bring back a bond that both had thought severed for many, many years. Of course William had always hoped in his heart that there would be a time when this day would come to happen, but things had been very different for Zowie. After such a long time trying to convince herself that she didn’t feel anything, letting this undying love flow through her once again was both rejoicing and disconcerting. She tried to cling to the good things, however, and leave the past behind. Wasn’t that what she had come to Wellington for, after all?

“I’m sorry.” She uttered when she could finally articulate a word. Looking up, blue eyes stared into identical ones, both gazes swimming in tears. “But I was so mad, so angry… so furious at you, all I could think of was that I wanted to cause you as much pain as it was possible. God, I was so horrible to you… to everyone!”

“You had every right to.” William said, giving her a hearty squeeze that filled her heart with joy. “Although I won’t say it was any easier for me to deal with it no matter how much I understood what you were going through.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips the moment he said that, but it was laced by the grief in his eyes. “But I understand why you did it. It was my fault. I lied, I cheated, I kept secrets… it’s a wonder any of you still talk to me.”

The hint of a smile on Zowie’s lips mirrored William’s when she spoke.

“That you are right about.” She said, and her smile widened a fraction when she realised that, had they been having this conversation in any other context, the tone would be very, very different. Years ago they would have probably been screaming at the top of their lungs when talking about it. What difference did a reconciliation make, Zowie realised. That didn’t mean they would always be so tamed about it, though, but well… she would enjoy it while it lasted. “I was just so mad at you… so mad! I thought you could no wrong and then, suddenly, this comes up. And that it was me who had to find it out…” Her voice shook with those words, but she took a deep breath and carried on. “It nearly killed me, Dad.”

William’s deep inhalation trembled with unshed tears, and he lifted a hand to brush a stray tear that trickled down Zowie’s blushed cheek.

“And I have regretted that for every minute of my life since that day. It was never meant for you to see it or find out, but I have to admit that it was cowardice on my part to leave it there. I suppose a part of me was hoping someone would find it and rid me of the responsibility of coming out with the truth. I just wished it didn’t have to be you and Jared. I swear to God, Zowie… I should have been man enough to sit down with you all and tell you everything there was to know.” William trembled in her arms, and his eyes darkened with regret. “What kind of a father figure am I?”

His doubts couldn’t be erased, and Zowie didn’t think she had it in her to banish his claim. She might love him enough to forgive him and have him back in her life, but she wasn’t as blind as to overlook the damage he had done with his mistakes.

“I just wish you hadn’t lied, Dad. Everything would have been so much easier had you told us the truth from day one. Because those lies, those secrets? They did things to us.”

“I know. There are so many things I should have said or done… and so many others that shouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Don’t you think I have spent all these years punishing myself for what happened to you? Don’t you think I haven’t known all along that hadn’t I been more firm, hadn’t I put my foot down when I was supposed to instead of letting you get away with everything isn’t what brought you to spend years away from us, years in the dark? But I was terrified you wouldn’t love me. I was terrified you would somehow find out what was going on and walk away from me. And it still happened nevertheless, and it was all my fault.”

Zowie sighed heavily, shaking her head.

“That was the kind of father I needed, that you are right about. But no matter how much you punish yourself for my addiction… that wasn’t you.” Zowie stated, firmly and with determination glowing in her eyes. “That was all me. Hadn’t I clammed up the way I did, had I realised I indeed had people to talk to, I wouldn’t have felt the only way out was to take drugs. Thing is, Dad, I was selfish. That’s all. We both were and the harm is done. We could spend the rest of our lives blaming ourselves for everything, but the truth is we both have our fair share of the guilt, and at the end of the day, no matter how much I have tried to deny it or convince myself of the opposite, I still love you, and I’d much rather have you back in my life, faults and all, that never seeing you again.”

Even Zowie surprised herself with her statement, but she knew it came from the heart, and that it was time to build a new bridge, a new bond between her and her father based on honesty, and not on whims and fear.

William, moved to tears by his daughter’s words, ran his hands down her cheeks until he cupped them in his palms.

“I have loved you from the moment you were born and the doctor put you in my arms. Did you know that the minute they took you away, you started wailing as if you were terribly mad at them? You were already showing your character, and you had me wrapped around your little finger from that moment on.”

Zowie smiled. She had heard countless times the story that she had made the loudest baby in the hospital’s nursery when she was born, but had never heard that particular tale before.

“I understand that, but I don’t want you wrapped around my finger anymore. I need you strong and assertive, Dad. I need a father, not an enabler, and I’m counting on you to be strong enough to do exactly that. I can’t be strong for both, because that is the kind of thing that leads people like me to do stupid things, understand?”

William stared at her as if he looked at her for the first time, and Zowie couldn’t blame him. Last time they had seen each other, she had nearly blamed him for every wrong in her life. Now she asked him to be strong, just not for her, but for himself. That must be quite the surprise for him, given that all he knew about her was that she was a spoiled little brat.

“Forgive me for not being the man you needed.” He whispered, his eyes serious once again. “For being selfish and not seeing that you needed more from me.”

“Forgiven.” Zowie said with a smile before burrowing herself in his embrace, feeding off his warmth and strength after missing it for oh so long. She could have spent an eternity there, basking in their renewed relationship, hadn’t the thought of the other important man in her life popped up in her mind. “Orlando!” Her head jerked up as she blurted out her boyfriend’s name, instantly alert.

At her shock, it was William’s turn to grin. Giving her one last hearty squeeze, he stepped back, giving his daughter some space.

“Go. Go after him. Just don’t be too harsh on him, okay? He only did this because he loves you dearly. He and your mum both.”

Zowie’s smile brightened at his comment.

“I know. I love you.”

William positively beamed at her words.

“And I love you too. Now go to him. Go.”

Giving her dad one last hug and a promise to meet again soon to talk some more, Zowie everything but ran out of the training room that now was more meaningful to her than ever, and began to look around, looking for Orlando. Her smile lingered on her lips, sure that she would find him standing there waiting for her. When she didn’t, however, the smile dimmed and dimmed until it disappeared entirely. He was nowhere to be seen and Zowie began to fear that while fixing one problem, she had created a new one for herself, and her heart thundered in her chest. Her eyes darted left and right, but Orlando was still nowhere to be seen, and there was no one she could ask about his whereabouts; not because no one there knew who he was, it just didn’t feel right, even if her desperation grew with every step she took. She had turned right on a corner when she nearly crashed with Jack, the guy that had given them the tour of the workshop. Seizing the opportunity, Zowie asked.

“Have you seen Orlando?”

The poor boy appeared shocked, and when he took a second too long to answer, she could have shook some sense into him.

“Yes, he left a message for you.” Zowie dreaded his words until he finally spoke. “He’s waiting for you in the car.”

Oh God, she could have kissed Jack! So she did. She threw her arms around him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You are my hero!” She cried out as she ran out of the workshop. “Thank you so much!”

She caught a brief glimpse of the slight blush and the highly disconcerted look in Jack’s face before turning around, but it was soon forgotten as she ran for the nearest door and pushed it open with all the strength of her body. She remembered they had parked a few meters away, right at the corner, so she darted in that direction, praying to God that she hadn’t done a harm she couldn’t undo.

The people she crossed in her way to the corner eyed her warily as they sidestepped to give way to her and avoid a sure trampling in her haste, but Zowie barely paid them any mind. All she worried about was whether the car was still there as promised or not, and when she caught a glimpse of it, she forced her legs to go as fast as they possibly could.

 _Oh God_ , she prayed, _please let it be alright._ If she had to grovel, beg and plead for forgiveness, then she would, for she had known it all along that it wasn’t Orlando’s fault, and that kicking him out of that room had most likely been most unfair of her part. But she hadn’t been thinking straight, and she hoped Orlando knew and understood that well enough to see eye to eye with her about this particular matter. It’s just that she had been thrown so completely out of balance when being faced with the presence of William, that she hadn’t been thinking straight. It saddened her heart that it was Orlando who had to ultimately deal with the brunt of her shock, when it was him, along with Noemie, who had planned this solely in her benefit.

Zowie narrowly avoided an elderly lady walking slowly down the sidewalk – and what was with so many people out there that day, anyway? – and the sight that welcomed her when the car finally came to sight made her thundering heart lurch in her chest. Orlando was indeed inside, waiting for her as he had promised, but the sight he presented was a far cry from what Zowie had anticipated.

Forearms thrown over the steering wheel, Orlando’s face was buried in the nook between them, hidden from sight, and the sheer defeat the picture offered brought stinging tears to Zowie’s eyes. Would she ever stop hurting those she loved the most? Had she inflicted the kind of pain that would be incapable of undoing? Apprehension curled inside her like a ball and she nibbled her lower lip, quickly analysing the possible courses of action until she realised there was only one true way to work this out. So taking a deep breath, she closed the distance between her and the car with determined steps, and it was very hard not to let desperation colour her every move as she tapped the window, hoping to catch Orlando’s attention.

And that she did, catching him so completely by surprise, he jumped so high on the seat when raising his head, that it was a miracle he didn’t hit the roof. Zowie could have smiled at the shock written in his handsome face, but amusement was the last thing in her mind in that moment.

“Can I come in?”

Was that a stupid, nonsensical question or what? Zowie scolded herself at her lack of smoothness, but in that precise context, she guessed smoothness wouldn’t be welcome neither appreciated. Orlando nodded his consent and she opened the passenger’s door, slowly sliding on the seat as she tried to gather the courage to face the situation. And when wracking her brain offered no further answer, she went for the easiest, truest way to start the conversation.

“I’m so sorry.”

Zowie wanted desperately to throw her arms around him, to whisper in his ear words that tried to express the depth of her feelings for him, but she knew the timing couldn’t possibly be worse. Before doing any of those things, she needed to erase the hurt from his brown eyes, and she was determined to accomplish that as soon as possible.

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out the way I did.” She began to say, her eyes going to the knotted fingers on her lap before meeting his once again. “But I was too shocked, too angry… You have to understand, seeing my dad there, after so long…” Was she being any successful at getting her point across? For some reason, she doubted it. “I know I said I was ready to meet him, but when I saw him, I realised I’d been lying to you all, and to myself, all along. And hadn’t you done this, hadn’t you brought me here, probably none of this would have happened, and I’d still be the mess I’ve been for so long. Because you know what? Now I know how incomplete I was. I hid it by acting rude, by being such a pain, when all you wanted to do was help me.” Her voice shook with her admissions. “I have the feeling that this is how I’ve been acting ever since we first met, haven’t I? It was always all about me. Me, me, me. I was so selfish, so self-centred! But what better way to hide my pain, right?” She sketched a smile that died a pitiful death long before it reached its peak. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through since we met, but I know it’ll be better now, because I know _I_ will be a better person now. The things I came here for, Orlando… They’re done. I’ve made peace with everyone, but above all, I’ve made peace with myself. I’ve finally come full circle and I want to live my life for once and for all. With you.” Looking into his eyes, she finally added. “Because I love you with all my heart.”

Zowie’s long-winded, heartfelt speech was met with nothing but sheer silence, and the anxiety that hadn’t left her since finding Orlando hunched over the steering wheel of the car was fuelled by the dread his lack of the reaction caused in her heart. His brown eyes, usually so warm and loving, gave nothing away, and she could feel tears prickling at her own. She wouldn’t lose him over this. If there was one thing she was sure about, was of that one simple thing.

She parted her lips to launch herself on another tirade that would most likely put the last one to shame, but no word ever managed to leave her mouth, for Orlando raised his hand and the determined look on his face stopped her on her tracks, effectively silencing her. She swallowed hard, preparing herself for the worst but knowing at the same time that she would never, ever give up on him. She hadn’t during the years they had spent apart, and neither had he. She wouldn’t start doing it now.

“All those things you say you have put me through?” He said, his voice even and giving absolutely nothing away in a way that made her heart tremble as she held her breath. “Just so you know, I’d deal with them all over again just to be with you, right here, right now.”

The breath Zowie had been holding? If she ever told this story to someone later in her life, it would be safe to say that it huffed out in a rush caused by the surprise of what Orlando had just told her. Because, in very few and simple words, he had achieved something that, to her, was nearly magical: he had encompassed the depth of her own feelings for him. He loved her, just as much as she loved him. And should it all happen all over again, he would still go for it, no matter what. But his conviction, the fact that he considered that everything they had gone through had led to that particular moment – sitting in a rental car in a sunny Wellington day, seven years after they had met just a few steps away from that very same spot – made her feel the luckiest, most fortunate girl alive. Orlando could have run for the hills years ago, when she was nothing but a bratty teenager, but instead he had stuck around, despite their time apart. He had helped her when she needed him and had given her the strength to look inside herself and take the reins of her life in her own hands when she needed it the most. What had she done to deserve him? Zowie would probably never, ever have the answer to that question, but in that instant, she simply didn’t care. Orlando was there, and that was all that mattered.

“I love you, Orlando. I’m not sure I show it as much as I’d like to, but…”

Taking her face in her hands, Orlando silenced her with a quick kiss.

“You do. Believe me, you do. And seeing how far you’ve come and how happy and healthy you are right now makes me happier than you can even imagine.” Resting his forehead against hers, he added. “I love you.”

Throwing her arms around his neck, Zowie brought Orlando as close to her as it was physically possible, an enormous smile on her lips as she hid her face in his neck. Yes, she might never find out what she had done to deserve him, but she would make sure to thank whatever deity had put him in her path every day for the rest of her life.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 34.**

 

The day had finally come. March 18th, Zowie’s twenty-fifth birthday.

And because, very skilfully, Noemie had got away with nearly all of her plans, she was throwing a gorgeous – albeit not as multitudinous as she would have preferred, surely – party for her eldest daughter. _“It’s not every day that you turn twenty-five,”_ Noemie had said with a smile on her face when they arrived at the venue and Zowie’s shock had expressed itself in the shape of a gaping mouth. What Noemie hadn’t said, however, but that the smile on her face and the joy in her eyes had pretty much screamed from the top of the roof, was that it wasn’t every day that she got the chance to spend a birthday with Zowie. All the time she had spent away, but mostly, the years Zowie had spent isolated from her family, had left the mark of an absence in her mother Zowie wasn’t sure she would ever overcome. So, this time, she let her mum get away with it. She would be heading back to the United Stated soon, to start a new life and hopefully fulfil some old dreams left aside for so long – like attending University and maybe helping kids that, like her, had fallen in the trap of drugs – and she wanted to leave her mum with something that would, even in the slightest, shed some light on the darkness she had created for so long.

Looking around, she had to admit that despite whatever reservations she had initially had, Noemie really had an eye and a skill for creating and choosing ambiances. The Lodge, the chosen location this time, was a venue located some twenty minutes away from Wellington, surrounded by lush greenery that appealed to that part of Zowie that would forever crave nature in its most natural state. The veranda where they were having the festivities at the moment, since it was such a warm and sunny day, offered the perfect view of the lovely inlet not too far away. And as she sat there, a soft breeze blowing through her long hair, she felt happy and at peace with herself. After all, when was the last time she had even dared to imagine a celebration, any at all, that included her grandmothers, Orlando, Jared, Brooke, her mum _and_ her dad? With the way she had left things when she left the country and with the things that had happened while she was away, such picture hadn’t even been a part of her wildest, craziest dreams.

Of course there had been a teary moment when she entered the venue and everyone had already been there waiting for her. Walking hand in hand with Orlando into a room decorated in white and red – her favourite colour – and meeting there the people that meant so much to her had nearly brought her to a pitiful sobbing. She had shed a few tears, sure, most of them when faced with her grandmothers and her admission about the loss of the diamond studs and necklace they had given her long ago. Very few times in her life had Zowie been so ashamed of something, and although both women reassured her that they didn’t think any less of her, she still found it a very bitter pill to swallow.

But with things going as smoothly as they did, Zowie soon relaxed. The conversation with Brooke was great, with her and Orlando swapping stories of theatre rehearsals, pre-premiere and performance jitters, and it was very, very amusing to witness how Jared tried to catch Brooke’s attention every once in a while. She did listen to him, more out of politeness than anything else, she guessed, but Zowie was willing to bet that nothing remotely romantic would develop there any time soon; no matter how hard Jared went for it.

William had also integrated pretty well, despite Zowie’s initial fears. His relationship with Noemie could be best labelled as “friendly”; surely, more in their children’s benefit than anything else. He and Jared were close, and more than once, Zowie discovered herself wondering what her relationship with him would be like hadn’t she so carelessly shut herself down to it. And every time, she had shaken her head to rid herself of such sombre thoughts. It was done and nothing would change the past. She could work for the future, though, and that was exactly what she was doing.

There was, however, one glaring absence, and it was that of her sister. Every time Zowie looked around and saw her loved ones laughing, talking and sharing the moment, it was impossible not to notice that someone was missing. Yet, and although it did represent a small dark cloud in the otherwise clear blue sky of her joy, Zowie refused to let it ruin her entire day. She had tried her best to make amends with Jewell, and her sister had decided it wasn’t worth it. What could she do about it that she hadn’t tried before? She had told Jules how sorry she was, how much she regretted doing every single thing that had been hurtful to her in any way. What else could she do? She couldn’t change Jewell’s mind! She had tried to reason with her, and Jules had about slammed the door closed in her face. Although it didn’t anger her, it did sadden her when the thought lingered for too long.

But despite that cloud of sadness that hovered just around the corner, Zowie did manage to enjoy herself. How could she not? The place was absolutely stunning; tall green trees, the bright sun that bathed the veranda and the guests with its warmth and golden glow, keeping them from venturing inside unless it was strictly necessary. The day was lovely and the company was much too enjoyable, what could be better than that? Despite all the happenings in her family, every single person in that veranda achieved something amazing: to leave all animosity aside and share a day where tension had eventually died away after some time. It wasn’t her doing, Zowie mused, but if that was what she was leaving behind… well, then she could go back to the United States with Orlando and start a new life with a clean slate knowing, this time, that she wasn’t leaving any mess behind.

“Enjoying yourself?” The voice whispering in her ear was much too familiar, and his breath blowing the tiny locks of hair against her ear made her shiver pleasantly. Orlando’s chest was warm and strong as she leaned back against him, and her hands ran softly over his as they posed themselves on her belly. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, Zowie didn’t need to analyse her feelings the very least to come up with an appropriate answer.

“Oh, yes.” She spoke, her voice soft and laden with calmness. And she was. It might feel a little selfish of her, but thinking the things she had gone through in the past, Zowie felt she deserved this little piece of heaven she was in in that instant.

Posing a soft kiss on her temple, Orlando added.

“Well, it’s about to get even better.”

When Zowie didn’t quite get the whole meaning of his cryptic comment, she turned a bit in his arms to give him a questioning look, one that was responded with a quick nod towards the door that led to the veranda.

It sure was about to get better, because walking through the door, came Noemie and William, the latter carrying a beautiful, lovely decorated cake that instantly caught Zowie’s attention.

Two-tiered, it was decorated in shades of red, but in a way Zowie had never seen before in a cake. The entire surface was covered with a very thorough and amazing piping job that resembled the ruffles on a very elegant ball gown of another time, the tone lightening in an amazingly achieved degrade that ended with a pale pink on the very top. Then, as if that wasn’t enough to make of the cake a breath-taking sight, different kinds of bright red flowers adorned the top; flowers that, although very real looking, were actually made of sugar, Zowie realised when her parents neared her spot. A single off-white, glittery candle had been placed on top, patiently waiting to be lit.

“Wow!” Zowie exclaimed, awed. “It’s gorgeous!”

“A friend’s wife is a great cake decorator. When I mentioned it to your mum, she agreed on having her do your cake. We weren’t entirely sure what you would like, so your mum here decided we should go for something elegant.” Placing the cake on the table right before Zowie, William then smiled down at her. “You like it?”

“I love it!” Zowie exclaimed, earning herself a few soft laughs from the other guests. “It’s red and it’s beautiful and I’m not sure I want to cut it!”

At that, the soft giggles from before became full laughter. Grinning, Zowie stood up and gave both her mum and dad a quick hug.

“Thanks, guys. Thank you so much!”

Noemie beamed at her, and William gave her a wink. That her birthday brought them together in good will, if only momentarily, brought joy to her heart. She didn’t harbour any unfounded hopes that they would get back together again, but if William and Noemie could have any sort of peaceful and cordial relationship, then it would be enough for her.

“Ready to _officially_ turn twenty-five?” Noemie said with a broad smile, and Zowie nodded eagerly, not quite remembering when was the last time she had felt so excited about her birthday. It had to be her eighteenth one, she realised. Both times Zowie had felt the world was at her feet; difference was, this time she knew she was in the right path and not one carved by selfishness.

The candle was lit and her guests sang a very hearty rendition of _“Happy Birthday”_ that filled Zowie with such bliss, she felt she could nearly burst. Surrounded by her loved ones and happy as she could be, what else could she possibly wish for before blowing the candle?

The thought bloomed to life without warning, but full of certainty a moment later. Before blowing the candle, Zowie wished for joy. But surprising even herself, she didn’t wish such thing for her life; she wished it for those around her, and that was the biggest difference with the Zowie excited about turning 18. The world wasn’t out there just to make her happy anymore. There were other people in it that deserved it just as much, or even more so, than her.

Once she blew the candle, Zowie looked around, and her heart sang. This was joy, she realised, and although she was leaving, she knew it didn’t mean pushing everyone away with her departure; it just meant doing something she had owed herself for far too long, all the while keeping close contact with her loved ones.

The time for presents came, and although Zowie thought herself prepared for a few surprises, she soon realised she was _not_ in the least. All the presents she received were thoughtful and full of love, but when her grandmothers gave her a tiny jewellery box each, Zowie felt tears rushing to her eyes.

“Gramma, Nan…” Her words choked in her throat and her gasp was echoed by those around her when, after opening the tiny boxes, Zowie found an exact replica of the diamond stud earrings and golden necklace to match that they had given her in her 18th birthday.

“When we heard the story and your mum told us how sad you were about it, the two of us thought this would probably ease some of the guilt away.” Nan said, and the moment the older woman finished her words, Zowie threw her arms around both her grandmothers, tears now spilling freely down her cheeks. How could she possibly express with words what their gesture meant to her? That _they_ had done something so thoughtful so she wouldn’t feel guilty anymore? It should have been her doing it, and every proof of the love these people felt for her just filled her heart with more affection and made her cry even harder.

“Thank you so much.” She finally managed to say, pulling away from them and hurriedly brushing her tears away. Not that it was of much use, she noticed, when they stubbornly kept on falling. Holding the boxes in her hands, her eyes went from one woman to the other. “This… it means the world to me. I was so ashamed of losing your presents that I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

Gramma, always more determined and straightforward, discarded her regret with a wave of her hands.

“Nonsense, dear. What’s done is done. Now put these on and let me see how they look.”

Smiling and shaking her head a little at her straightforwardness, Zowie slipped the necklace and earrings on, their feeling and light weight so familiar on her skin.

“Lovely as always,” Gramma said with a wink, and Zowie couldn’t help but hug both women once again.

“I suppose I’m next.” Orlando said, and when Zowie turned to him, there was such an ornery grin on his face, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. “Close your eyes.” He ordered and Zowie obeyed, not before giving him what she hoped was an admonishing look that had absolutely no effect whatsoever on him.

With her eyes closed, she heard some rustling nearby, and by the time Orlando asked her to open them once again, impatience and curiosity burned inside her like crazy.

“Happy birthday, love. To many, many more of these together, you and I.”

The big box in his hands was completely forgotten by the power his words held to her. Leaning forward, she kissed him lovingly, earning herself an amused look from him when they pulled apart.

“You should do that _after_ you get the gift, you know? What if you don’t like it?”

“It’d have to be something _really_ ugly for me not to like it.” She said, taking the box in her hands with a spark in her eyes. Laying eyes on it for the first time, she noticed the black satiny fabric that covered it and the wide, white ribbon that kept it closed. Tugging at one of the ribbon’s ends, Zowie watched the bow come undone before putting it aside on the table. Holding one end of the large box close to her to balance it safely, she finally lifted the lid, and what she found there made her gasp.

No wonder the box and the ribbon had such a peculiar colour combination! The present inside repeated the scheme, this time in a Juventus jersey with the number 10 on the front. And that 10 in that jersey could only mean one thing: Alessandro Del Piero. Her _beloved_ Alex. The one she had idolised as a young football player and that she had dreamt of marrying, should her plans to elope with Daniel Johns from Silverchair fail.

With a huge smile on her lips, Zowie looked up at Orlando.

“How…?” She tried to voice her question, but her words died beneath the thick layer of shock she felt at the sight of her present.

“Honestly? It wasn’t that hard getting the idea after having the guy staring back at me from the walls after we got here. And it was hard not to remember how much you positively _gushed_ about him back when we met.” Orlando explained, his hand going to the back of his neck as if his admission embarrassed him. Her smile widened, if that was physically possible, and Orlando took his hand from his neck to wave it at the box. “Take it out. There’s another surprise on it.”

Zowie everything but threw the box’s lid over her shoulder in her haste to find what else was in there. Holding the jersey lovingly against her heart, she peeked inside the box, but frowned when she failed to find anything else. She was about to ask Orlando what he meant when she remembered his words. _“On it,”_ he had said; not _“in there”_. So putting the box on the chair she had been sitting on, she grabbed the jersey’s shoulders and saw what Orlando was talking about, scribbled with black marker next to the club’s emblem.

_“To Zowie, my #1 Kiwi fan. Happy birthday! Love, Alessandro.”_

“Oh, my God.” She murmured, too breathless to do anything else. She bounced back quickly, however, and her loud squeal could have never been stopped. “Oh, my God! How on Earth did you get this?” She asked, her eyes darting back and forth between the jersey and Orlando.

His brown eyes glowing with the same happiness that coloured his wide smile, Orlando answered.

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I do have some contacts here and there and-“

His explanation was cut short. Zowie, overcome by joy, threw herself in his arms and kissed him briefly, yet intensely, before pulling back and admiring her present.

“This is so cool! Thank you so, so much, Orlando! I love it. I love _you_.” When she looked up at him, there was no mistaking how intensely she actually felt for him.

Orlando winked at her, and standing there in jeans and a white shirt that seemed to have been made with him in mind, he made her weak at the knees.

“Oh, but that’s not it.” He said next, taking her completely by surprise. Zowie stared dumbly at him, and since she couldn’t react appropriately, he took the jersey from her fingers and put it back in its box. “I’d ask you to close your eyes again, but I don’t think you can do it. Just wait right here.”

Orlando’s words elicited giggles from those around them as he walked into the Lodge, and Zowie felt ashamed to realise she had forgotten they even existed. Blushing, she tried to compose herself and prepare for what he had in store for her. Not many things could top the jersey, though. After all, Alex? That was pretty much right at the top of her priority list.

Waiting patiently for Orlando to come back was _not_ a possibility, so Zowie tried her best not to fidget in her spot until he came back carrying a dark, large wooden box in his hands. It didn’t seem to be too heavy, and although for a second Zowie wondered what it could be, the minute the light of the sun hit the box, she felt as if a blow had knocked all air out of her. Could it be…? Surely not, she tried to convince herself, not wanting to get her hopes too high. Still, the knot in her throat couldn’t be ignored, and Zowie discovered herself trying to breathe around it. When she looked up into Orlando’s face, she wasn’t sure she was pleading him to prove her wrong… or right.

“We all have a past, Zowie. We’ve all made mistakes, each and every single one of us here. You paid dearly for your own, but that’s no reason for you to forget those parts of your past that made you so happy. This should help you bring some of those moments back.”

Zowie hesitated. Orlando’s words had been so poignant, and she wasn’t at all sure about how she would react depending on what she saw in that box. When she reached out, her hands trembled, and took far too long to close the distance. When the tips of her fingers brushed the polished wood, her eyes blurred, and she blinked hard to clear her eyes, for she needed to be completely sure that no trick of her mind was deceiving her. When, after taking a deep breath, she lifted the top of the box, her sobs couldn’t possibly be controlled.

She had been right. So, so right! Inside that box laid one of her most prized possessions, one that had been once stolen from her and that, long ago, Zowie had convinced herself she would never, ever see again.

Her sword.

Her face fell into her hands. Just the sight of it brought so many memories back, both happy and sad… receiving it as a present from her parents, moving to Los Angeles and losing it at Matt’s hands… She cried as if there was no tomorrow, overcome by her feelings.

Until she felt a familiar pair of arms pulling her close and a loved voice whispering in her ear.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry. I thought it’d make you happy and…” Orlando’s own voice choked at her obvious distress, and it was that what finally snapped her out of her state.

“It _does_! It’s just that I… so many things came back and…” She sobbed, until she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. It took her some time, but when she could finally settle her emotions some, she carried on speaking. “I just thought I’d never get see it again. I was so devastated when I lost it, and now that I have it here with me once again… How did you even do this?”

Lovingly, Orlando’s thumbs gently brushed away what little remained of her tears from her cheeks. His eyes searched her face, love shining in them, but looking rather wary, as if he wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to burst into tears when he least expected it.

“Geoff. He knows all the right people in California when it comes to swords, and since this one is so particular and he knew every single detail about it, it was hardly going to go unnoticed. Which, in turn, made it very easy to track, and with Geoff’s contacts, he worked his magic. We pulled some strings here and there, and believe it wasn’t easy to bring it to Noemie’s house without you noticing, but me running a few _errands_ for her here and there was enough to throw you off the scent. And now, here it is now. For you.”

What else could Zowie possibly do, other than stare adoringly up at him, her smile as wide as it was full of love? Absolutely nothing else.

“I don’t think I will ever find out what I did to deserve you, but I hope to God I’m doing all the right things to keep you by my side.” She whispered fervently, her heart and soul in every word.

Orlando’s smile, full of love and bliss, made her heart flutter just like it had done seven years ago when he changed her entire life.

“I’m hardly all that special, you know that, right?” His self-deprecating tone made Zowie’s smile widen even more as she shook her head.

Rolling her eyes, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him as close to her as it was possible.

“All that and more.” She whispered before pulling his head down and capturing his lips for a long, deep kiss, not caring who was watching. So what if she shocked her grandmothers? They could hardly feel any more shock than they surely had when they found out about her exploits, right? She loved this man so much, she intended on showing him abundantly and often.

When she finally pulled apart, her eyes went to the sword Orlando had left on the table when he hugged her. It still shocked her beyond belief to see it there, after having convinced herself so long ago that she would never see it again. Every time she had used it, every time she had simply held it in her hand, they all rushed back to her mind, followed by the more bitter memories of finding it at the bottom of a closet in Matt’s house and then realising she had lost it completely. After all the thought her parents had put into that present – not to mention the amount of money – Zowie had felt as guilty about losing it as she had felt about her grandmothers’ presents.

This time, however, she didn’t cry with those thoughts. Of course she felt moved, and she would always feel that way, but now, the one feeling that overpowered every other, was need. She _needed_ to hold that sword in her hand, and the urge drove her forward, pulling her away from Orlando and leading her towards the table, by which she stood, silent and wide eyed, right in front of the mahogany box. Out of its own accord, her right hand closed itself around the handle, her eyes admiring the Hart family crest and the Z engraved on the pommel. With such distinctive features, how could this sword ever go unnoticed? It was impossible. And by some miracle, it had made its way back to her. Zowie could have shaken her head at the twists and turns of life.

However, the familiar sensation of the leather in her palm soon absorbed every other thought, feeling as if part of her old self rushed back to her just with its contact. Holding it tighter, Zowie surely and expertly lifted the sword from its resting place, admiring its craftsmanship and relishing on the simple feeling of it in her hand. Closing her eyes, Zowie not only remembered all the things she had done with it, she also pictured every single good thing she could do for others with it. And she would make sure to do such things, for she had something to give back, considering the many people that had lent her a hand in her times of need. If she could help at least one kid to leave drugs behind or simply avoid them altogether by giving him something like sword fighting to keep his mind and heart occupied, then she would feel satisfied.

The smile on her face must have surely caught all her guests by surprise, especially considering she had burst to tears just minutes ago, but when she put the sword back inside the box, closed it and looked up, she was beaming.

“Thank you all so much for this. I had no idea what to expect when I came back. I knew I couldn’t take any of you for granted and I knew I had done so much to hurt you all, so this has surpassed even my wildest fantasies. All I can promise now is that I won’t go back to my old ways. I know you never say never, but I don’t feel alone in the world anymore, because I know I’m not, and that’s thanks to all of you here.”

And that wasn’t a lie. Seven years and a good deal of growing up later, Zowie could now look at her past in the eye and recognise it for what it was: the misgiven fears of a teenager. Fear of being abandoned, of failure, of not being enough. Now, as she understood how much her fears had pained others, she could see how wrong she had been by not asking for help. Her parents, Jared, Brooke and her grandmothers, they all stared at her with happy smiles and, in some cases, teary eyes. Beside her, Orlando’s arm around her waist pulled her close to him. Zowie was about to add something when movement behind her caught Noemie’s attention, making her gasp in shock. Frowning, she looked over her shoulder, wondering what could have got Noemie acting that way. When Zowie thought nothing else would be able to catch her off guard that day, the most unexpected thing happened.

Jewell stood by the door communicating the veranda with the indoors of the venue, a hesitant expression in her eyes and discomfort written in every line of her body.

“Jewell!” Noemie exclaimed, and before Zowie could say anything, her mum had launched herself towards her youngest daughter. Whether to greet her or stop a potential drama, Zowie couldn’t say; Noemie was far too tense to tell.

It was Jules herself who put an end to the nervous silence that had fallen upon the small party.

“I didn’t come all the way here to fight.” She said, and although she sounded sincere, Zowie could tell that having to do this in front of so many people was nearly killing her. When her grey eyes met hers, Zowie tried her best to put on a neutral expression to prevent any animosity. “I just want to talk to Zowie for a minute. Is that okay?”

Zowie could feel the wave of surprise coming from those behind her, but deciding to trust her sister’s goodwill, she took a step forward. Orlando’s hands were reluctant to let her go, but Zowie carried on nonetheless.

“Sure.” She said. She could have smiled, or at least tried to, but suddenly had the feeling it would have come across as phony. So standing next to her mum before Jewell, she nodded towards the room behind her. “Want to go inside?”

Jules’ eyes widened, as if she hadn’t expected that gesture from her. Hard to say why, Zowie mused, when it was Jewell who had claimed she didn’t need her anymore. The relief in her sister’s face, however, couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes… yes, please.”

When Jules turned on her heels, Zowie quickly gave her mum a reassuring smile and followed Jewell inside, hoping she had interpreted her sister’s feelings right, and that doing this in private would be less aggravating. After all, she too had been this proud once, so she could relate.

When they were out of sight from their family, Jewell turned around and looked at Zowie with a serious, albeit hesitant look. It was as if she wasn’t sure what to expect, and it surprised Zowie. She might not have been the best of sisters in the past, but she had hoped showing up at her house had shown Jules she was willing to make things up between them.

“I… well, mum told me you had invited me here, but well… I was so angry.” Jewell began to say, her grey eyes glinting with conflictive emotions. “I said _‘no way’_. And I wasn’t going to come, but Jay… he tried to talk some sense into me, and I suppose it worked. I’m still mad at you.” She rushed to clarify, and Zowie had to fight the tiny grin that wanted to play on her lips. “But he said you made things up with Dad and that you’re leaving.”

Zowie nodded, understanding her inner struggle, obvious as it was on her face.

“I understand. He didn’t force you to come or anything, right?” She asked, and Jules looked aggravated at the implications.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t out of free will.” She stated, looking as proud as never before. “I just thought I’d give you this and wish you a safe trip back to America. That’s all.” When Jules stretched her hand, Zowie realised she had been holding a small bag in it. “This is one of the pieces from my collection. If you don’t like it, you can give it to mum and she’ll make sure I get it back eventually.” She explained and then, giving her a tight-lipped smile, she added. “Happy birthday. Goodbye.”

Zowie barely had enough time to grab hold of the bag before it fell to the floor, and that cost her some precious seconds Jewell used in her advantage. By the time Zowie looked up, her sister had nearly crossed the entire room and was looking for a quick way out. Zowie, however, wasn’t going to allow that.

“Jules, wait!” Running after her sister on heels wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but Zowie still caught up with her before she slipped away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm, mindful not to squeeze too hard and send the wrong message. Jewell had already had enough of a hard time showing up there, so Zowie tried her best not to be too forceful when she gave Jules’ arm a soft yet unyielding tug. Surprisingly, Jewell spun without a fight, but she kept her eyes carefully low as she did. “I know I was the most selfish person out there _and_ a horrible sister to boost, but I love you. I know with all my heart that I can deal with a sister who’s so mad at me she wants to scream at me every time she sees me, but not with one that’s not present in my life at all. Please don’t shut me out, Jules.”

The silence that lengthened between them got Zowie’s heart thumping against her chest in fear and dread. Jewell didn’t look up at her, allowing her no insight on her feelings; at least, until Zowie detected the slight trembling of her shoulders and the hint of a gasp escaping her lips that told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh, Jules…” She whispered, her heart going out to her with those words as she took her in her arms for the hug she hadn’t been able to give her the last time they’d been together; the hug they hadn’t shared in the past seven years. And as she did, Zowie realised Jewell had grown up to be as tall as she was, a discovery that, although surprising, didn’t stop her from feeling like the big sister she had once been to her. “I was horrible and I’m so sorry about that, but please… I’m going away soon and I don’t want to leave things this way between us. I know I can’t ask you to forgive and forget all the pain I’ve caused you, but at least let me tell you how much I regret it. At least let me think there’s still a possibility to be sisters once again!”

Zowie held her breath when Jules, at first, didn’t answer. She could feel her body shaking with her sobs, as well as she could feel tears stinging in her own eyes provoked by her sister’s obvious anguish, and when Jewell took a step back, Zowie feared that small moment they had shared was done and over with.

“I was so angry when you left! And so lost!” She exclaimed, tears staining her cheeks. “I had no idea why you’d left, I couldn’t understand why you couldn’t stay here with your family. And then when you disappeared…” She took a deep breath, as if calming herself enough to successfully deal with the anger that obviously bubbled inside her. “That’s when I was mad at you. Because everyone was so focused on finding you, on wondering how you were, so intent on crying because they didn’t know what had happened to you, that they didn’t give a damn about what was going on with _me_!”

Zowie’s tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I know it makes no sense now, but it was never my intention. I was so selfish back then, I couldn’t see how much I hurt other people… how much I was hurting you.”

Jewell carried on as if Zowie had never spoken.

“And then you show up at my house. Unexpected. Unannounced. I was furious at you for doing such thing, for bringing all those feelings back after it had taken me years to push them away and carry on with my life. The prodigal daughter was back and once again, I was pushed back. No one cared about me. It was all about you, as always.” Jewell’s heated words seemed to reach their zenith, and when they did, she had to take a deep breath, one that achieved something Zowie hadn’t thought possible: it calmed her down some, and when she looked at her once again, she could see the raw pain in her grey eyes that she had never seen before. “Do you have any idea how shameful it was for me to realise I was jealous that my sister, who had overcome a drug addiction, had the attention of the entire family? And can you imagine how hard it was for me to admit that, despite everything, I’d missed my sister like crazy?”

Zowie’s gasp echoed in the room.

“Jules…”

Her sister carried on, making Zowie hear what she had to say all in one go, or she would never gather the courage to say it again.

“And then Jay told me you were leaving, and when I found out, I felt fear. Fear that I would never get to see you again and that I’d lose you forever.” Tears flowing freely down her pretty face, her pain obvious in her features, Jewell said. “Despite how mad I am at you, I just don’t want to lose my sister again!”

What could Zowie say to that? Were there any appropriate words, anyway? She didn’t think so, so she did the one thing her heart begged her to: she took her in her arms once again, murmuring in her ear all the words that were in her heart.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jules… I should have never done all the things I did, but I was so screwed up, so confused, so misguided! This is all my fault and I hope you can forgive me one day. I promise I will try and make things better and never cause you any problems again.”

Jewell hugged her tight, and although she didn’t say a word, Zowie took that as a good sign, given her behaviour during their previous meeting. When she pulled back to look at her older sister in the eye, Zowie could see her eyes were a clear grey once again, free of all the preconceptions of the past.

“I’m sorry for all the awful things I said the other day.”

Zowie shook her head.

“You had every right to say whatever you wanted to. That’s how you felt.”

“Regardless, I have no excuses. I wanted to hurt you, and I’m afraid I did. I’m so sorry.”

Zowie had the feeling that, should they carry on like this, they would spend the rest of their lives in a constant flow of apologies, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted a new beginning. Perhaps not a clean slate for she knew she had caused her too much pain, but at least the chance to get to know her once again. After all, her sister was a grown up now, and surely nothing like the little girl she had once known. So she went for the simplest, most honest thing she could tell her.

“I love you, Jules. And I’m so glad to have you back in my life!”

At that, a still teary-eyed Jewell beamed at her in return.

“And I love you too, Zow.”

Once again, Zowie hugged Jewell close to her body, keeping her tears at bay. She was deliriously happy, so why cry now, when everything was back where it belonged? She wasn’t going to bring any more sadness to her life. Because now, as she stood there, her sister in her arms and the silhouettes of her family on the other side of the curtained windows, Zowie realised what had been her trouble all along. All that pain and sorrow she had felt over the years? She had brought it upon herself by not relying on others, by not sharing her pain and doubts with them, by thinking she could handle it all on her own. What could have possibly made her think that she could handle such things at the tender age of seventeen, when she could hardly do it now? It was a mystery. But that masochistic streak of hers that had kept her pain to herself hoping others would notice and would solve her issues without her doing a single thing, was dead and buried now. She had learnt the hard way what selfishness could do, to her and others, and she wasn’t about to let it rule her life again. And her addictions – the crutches she had supported herself on for so long – would be a constant struggle, but with love and stability in her life, she knew she could fight them, for she knew that as long as she had her loved ones beside her and she learned to trust in herself and in her strength, Zowie would never fall in that trap again. That was all the reassurance she needed to carry on with her life as she planned.

_“What power has love but forgiveness?_   
_In other words_   
_by its intervention_   
_what has been done_   
_can be undone._   
_What good is it otherwise?”_

**William Carlos Williams**

 

**THE END**


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